


Artemis Fowl - The Scattered Remnants

by ParagonDreams (Venompen), Venompen



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer, RWBY
Genre: Action/Adventure, Book 5: The Lost Colony, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Crossover, Friendship, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Pre-Volume 1 (RWBY), faunus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:41:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24696199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venompen/pseuds/ParagonDreams, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venompen/pseuds/Venompen
Summary: Artemis and Holly never made it back from Hybras.  Stranded in a world of bloody evolution, Artemis and Holly will face unprecedented challenges and dangerous foes for their own survival and the fate of the world... but what else is new?New Community Discord!  https://discord.gg/VXg2seC
Comments: 9
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

-Disclaimer

I am not employed by Eoin Colfer or RoosterTeeth, so it stands to reason that I don't own anything, and thus, am not making any money. Please do not sue my broke butt.

~o~o~

Mockingjay was not the largest casino in Vale, not by a wide margin. That title went to the Emerald City, impractically far to the north for the average salaryman. An invisible barrier keeping anyone out who could not afford to bet enough money to represent a year's wage for said average salarymen. Mockingjay prided itself on accessibility, on allowing anyone, however haggard, to come in and gamble away their savings on delusions of grandeur. It kept carefully quiet how well it loaded its dice, stacked its decks, and paid off those who would come to investigate them. Needless to say, it was quite unusual for someone to be amassing their years wages in this particular casino. But then, Artemis Fowl the Second was certainly unusual. He arrived in the casino a scant few hours ago, dressed in a secondhand suit that had once likely been very expensive. He'd laid a few cards of Lien on the table, a little at a time, as if betting timidly. Then he had begun to win.

Wordlessly, he tapped two fingers against the table, calling the dealer's bluff. He was hardly gambling, of course. That implied an element of chance. No this was a silent, imperceptible duel of deft fingers and keen eyes. The dealer, and the house, were losing. A sizable mound of colorful plastic was collecting before him, carefully ordered between the rounds. He'd started with a few hundred. He now wielded thousands, each card a dagger, cutting away a little more wealth. Another tool in a carefully ordered arsenal. He eyed the game around him. The house had begun to pay attention. There was a man in a fine suit, wearing no name tag but bearing the Mockingjay silver bird emblem on his cufflinks. His disguise was an obvious drunken facade, as he meandered too close for coincidence. Security was quietly cutting off escape routes, standing unassuming at key choke points. A barricade of manpower, cheap liquor, and slot machines. Artemis kept his face carefully free of emotion, continuing to read the dealer.

The dealer had not been his first this afternoon. He'd gone from table to table, leaving just before he drew too much attention from security too early. Each and every one of them had tried, and failed to out-cheat him. The house had finally taken notice when he'd cracked a hundred thousand lien. The second half of Artemis' little act was about to begin. A man in an expensive looking pinstriped suit strolled up the table, dropped a thick stack of plastic, and joined the game. He spent the next few minutes glaring daggers at Artemis as the stack got shorter and shorter with each passing round.

"You've got nerve, kid" He drawled, arrogance and anger staining his voice. "But the game's up." He cracked his knuckles in a threatening manner. Artemis shifted in his chair, turning to face him.

"I was wondering when someone would notice," Artemis said, smoothly. "Was it when I started losing in a sequence of prime numbers, or did you just decide I'd won too much money?" Ironic, some would say. Mocking in the Mockingjay.

Pinstripe began."You've got some nerve-"

"Yes, we've established that. I've got a proposition for you." He fixed the man in an unnerving, mismatched glare. "Why don't we dispense with the theatrics and proceed to business, Mr. Pyrite?" The name was dropped carefully, and intentionally, like an old friend chambering a round. Somewhat disarmed, Pyrite sputtered briefly and glared at Artemis with contempt.

"Let me get one thing clear, half-pint. Nobody, and I mean _nobody_ ," he leaned forward, looming over Artemis as he spat his words. "Cheats in the Mockingjay." This had rather the opposite effect than the one he intended. Artemis was unimpressed, intimidating, and... smiling. A terrible, vampire smile. A menacing cheshire grin that promised onlookers their days were numbered.

"Indeed," Artemis said, as he drew his scroll carefully from his pocket. He opened it to a fake ID that clearly displayed an important acronym. "You may call me Paul Willowford. I'm from the Vale Gambling and Service Committee." The color drained from Pyrite's face, almost but not quite matching the bleached pale of Artemis' skin. Pyrite had, quite rightly, long feared a visit from the VGSC. He was wrong footed now and all Artemis had to do was keep him that way. It was like playing computer chess but if the computer was a dollar store calculator. "I'm disappointed, Mr. Pyrite. I'd hoped that you'd simply not been receiving our correspondence. Clearly you've been ignoring it, or this would not be a surprise to you." Artemis, of course, had sent a few dozen letters himself. Just enough worthless paperwork to convince his target that it could be ignored.

"I've been behind on paperwork," Pyrite said, not quite smoothly. "I was actually going to get to them tonight." He lied through his teeth, backpedaling obviously. The papers had long been shredded with a dozen credit card offers and a political campaign ad.

"Regardless, it's clear to me that this problem goes much deeper than we were led to believe. I came here to root out one bad dealer, but I find that every member of your staff and most of the machines, are cheating relentlessly." He fixed that icy glare on him once more. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Pyrite might have realized the question was rhetorical. He might have kept his mouth shut for his own good or tried to handle things officially. He might also have unhinged his jaw and swallowed his own head, with equal likelihood. He took a deep breath, and continued to dig himself an even deeper hole.

"I assure you Paul-"

"Mr. Willowford, will do." interrupted Artemis once more. It was not a request.

Pyrite gulped, "Mr. Willowford, I had no idea." He lied, pathetically and desperately. "Show me who, they'll never work in this city again I-"

Artemis scooped up a stack of lien. He fanned out the colorful fortune so that the dealer could count the cards. The dealer was happy to accept an implied bribe. He pulled up the sleeve of his shirt, knocking several cards loose from a special band covered in clips. "I assume you all have them?"

The young man nodded vigorously. "Yessir, Mr. Willowford!" He said brightly, hardly believing his luck. "If we let the guests win too much, he takes it out of our checks." Pyrite winced as Artemis allowed the dealer to collect the money. He smiled brightly, ripped his name tag from his shirt, and flipped off his former employer and made for the exit while he was still protected by sheer audacity.

Pyrite was sweating, quite visibly in fact, but a sort of desperate smile had come to his face. Artemis continued his menacing smile. The gears he'd carefully wound were turning in just the right way. Predictably, he smoothed out his suit. His tell. The one that said "I think I'm about to win."

"You know, it seems to me you've won quite a lot of money here tonight. All fairly, of course." He didn't even glance at the mound. "That must be a million lien right there." He said confidently, despite the fact that it was quite obviously not.

"Funny," Artemis said. "Looks more like three million to me."

"Perhaps-" Pyrite said through grit teeth. "It's two million."

Artemis decided not to press his luck. "Yes," Artemis said. "That seems about right." He extended a hand out to Pyrite. The bargain was struck.

Fifteen minutes later, Artemis stepped into a thrift shop holding a heavy silver briefcase. The kind that implied it contained money, drugs, or some delightful combination of the two. He purchased a more modest brown suitcase without a word to the cashier, and ducked into the bathroom. Behind the locked door, he counted out his ill-gotten gains, carefully checking the cards for trackers and bugs. He found one in the case, and removed it carefully before casually tossing it into a toilet. He pulled up the fake ID on his scroll, little more than an image file and a few software flags to make systems think he was old enough to drink. A few taps and swipes, and it was erased. Like so many pseudonyms and false identities before him, Paul Willowford ceased to exist.

On his way out, he exchanged his suit for a cheap one in a musty shade of grey. He ran his fingers through his hair to disrupt his widow's peak, and adopted a careful slouch as he walked to the bus stop. He left the district disguised as just another salaryman. The heist, if it could be called that, was complete.

It would be six days before anyone at the Mockingjay remembered that VGSC was supposed to stand for 'Vale Games and Sports Council.'

~o~o~

Holly Short was not having a good day. This, unfortunately, seemed to be the norm. At the crack of noon, she'd rolled out of bed and stumbled out of the room into the neighboring one that was home to the camp stove, the food, and more importantly, the instant coffee. She wouldn't call it a kitchen any more than she'd call the room she slept in a bedroom, as it was an old building that had probably been an office building at some point. She sighed as she rifled through a cardboard box, a gift from a food drive. She pulled out a cup of instant noodles, and she had to hope they were the vegetarian ones. It wasn't as if she could read the package.

The last few weeks had been an unending series of jarring changes, ever since she and Artemis had escaped Hybras. It was not a day she remembered fondly.

" _I remember," she said aloud. "You saved me." But he wasn't smiling. No, his face was puzzled and concerned._

" _I don't remember that..." Artemis said, reeling slightly from the memory. "I must have... but how?"  
There was a tearing sound, somewhere between rending fabric and an electrical storm. The world flared a magical blue, and she clung with all her strength to Artemis' hand as the blinding force scattered the circle. Just as sudden, everything went black._

Holly shook her head, trying to clear it. Dwelling on that wouldn't change anything. She stirred her soup, a cup of tepid noodles with shriveled peas, corn and shrimp so small they'd pass for sea monkeys.

"D'arvit." She sighed, eating quickly and in silence.

The food was tasteless, aside from the salt, but filling enough. She tossed the packaging into the plastic bag they'd propped open and went for the bathroom, flicking on the light as she entered. Artemis had managed to pilfer a few bags of Dust from a nearby shop. It reminded her of the magic batteries Foaly had devised, the great lumps of lithium quartz used to power a time stop. The grainy crystals were deposited into the building's utility reservoirs. Blue for water, red for heat, and yellow for power. It was strange that there wasn't a central grid, like in any human or fairy city, but damned convenient for squatters like themselves. They'd stuck to one of the upper floors and put garbage bags over the windows so they wouldn't be discovered, which was rather important since they seemed to stick out like sore thumbs.

She sighed, as she washed up at the sink. Holly was starting to get accustomed to her new reflection. Switching eyes with Artemis would have been jarring enough on its own, but she simply wasn't that lucky.

_She had awoken first, pushing herself up with aching limbs off of cold earth.  
["Frond, why does everything hurt?"] She hissed in Gnommish, the fairy tongue. Artemis was next to her, barely starting to stir. She laid a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently._

" _Artemis... Artemis... [Please wake up.]"_

_His eyes fluttered open. There was something off about them, something it took her a moment to place. His right eye wasn't blue any longer, it was hazel. Like hers._

" _Holly... your eye? Are you alright?"_

_Holly's blood chilled. She could recognize that he was speaking English. She'd heard it quite often before. She spent a lot of time in Ireland. But the words wouldn't parse. She had no idea what Artemis was saying. But she wasn't out of magic. She could feel it, beneath her skin. She tried to speak in English, but only Gnommish flowed from her lips._

_["I... I can't understand you, Artemis. Something is wrong."]_

_Artemis sat up and looked her in the eye... Which should have been a red flag. His eyes widened, as they quickly scanned down her body._

_["Holly, what's happened? Are you alright?"] he said, switching smoothly to Gnommish. Thankful as she was, it did nothing to hide his concern._

_["I think so,"] Holly said, slowly standing up. ["I'm alive at least... but something feels wrong. I can't understand you in English, like the gift of tongues is gone."] This was very alarming. The gift of tongues didn't actually consume magic. It was a magical gift, but even fairies who'd lost their magic kept even that. Artemis stood up, slowly and deliberately._

_["Holly, I have to ask you not to panic."] He'd said, looking up at her. ["We need to figure this out."] Her heart dropped as the details clicked into place. She looked down, her torn clothes barely protecting her modesty. She stepped back from Artemis, suddenly realizing she was at eye level, despite being on solid ground. She drew her Neutrino, beginning to hyperventilate as she looked at the sidearm that now felt so terribly small in her hand._

_["I'm... I'm a mud-girl."] She said, in a horrified whisper. ["I'm human!"]_

_Artemis slowly reached out a hand to touch her shoulder. He didn't want to do this, but it would be better for her to process all of this at once. He laid a hand on a downy surface, touching something foreign. A limb twitched, and Artemis gently grasped and extended it. It was a wing. A real, feathered wing.["I think you're rather more than that."]_

_It was too much. She screamed._

That had been weeks ago. Once they'd gotten to the city, Vale, Artemis had wasted no time. He was a cunning mudman. They stayed the first night at a homeless shelter, and had picked up some donated clothing. Their excuse was that Holly had laryngitis, so nobody batted an eye when Artemis did all the talking. It was fascinating to watch him work, to see that what he did went deeper than language. He would seem to slip into a new face, his mannerisms completely changing as he talked circles around people. For some he acted meek, others inebriated, and yet others with a cold and dangerous tone. And each and every time, he got exactly what he wanted. A box of donated food, a carelessly spilled secret, or the judicious fear to keep the pickpockets at bay.

The better part of the second day had been spent in the library. Artemis had been hunched over a public terminal, marveling at the odd disparity in different levels of technology as he did his research. Holly had sat next to him, with a children's alphabet book hidden behind a novel. She had elected to hide her wings upon learning about the local flavor of racism. Faunus were looked down on, and discriminated against. They both disliked it, but agreed that a low profile was necessary. She wore a baggy secondhand hoodie from some school called "Signal", and Artemis wore a Pumpkin Pete t-shirt. Neither of them had been comfortable.

_["How on earth did they manage this..."] He hissed. ["This is like a local network trying to be the entire internet."]_

_["See that sounds like Gnommish, but it doesn't actually mean anything."] Holly sighed. The jargon was enough to make her miss Foaly._

_Artemis thought for a moment. ["It's like someone's trying to ride a flare with a kite. This is woefully insufficient for the task its meant to accomplish, and yet somehow they've made do."] Holly shuddered. Riding a magma flare was bad enough in a shuttle built for the job. There was just something inherently unnerving about being propelled by a burst of geothermal heat and molten rock. ["Thanks to the Grimm, this world barely seems to have anything resembling infrastructure,"] Artemis continued. ["And I can't find any technology that isn't at least partially reliant on Dust either. I could make a fortune selling batteries."] A small joke at their expense. He was getting better at this._

_["Weren't we here so you could try to find somewhere for us to stay?"] Holly asked. A private space couldn't come quick enough in her opinion. She was already tired of ducking into bathrooms to stretch every time her wings started to cramp._

_["I've sent a query about buildings available for sale without current tenants,"] Artemis said, his irritation thinly veiled. ["But without a proper search engine I had to query a realty company directly. I'm still waiting on a-"]_

_The console chimed, an image of an envelope appearing on the holographic screen._

_["Speak of the devil,"] Artemis smiled. He opened the message, and began skimming the contents, falling silent as he cross-referenced with a map. Half an hour passed while Artemis' fingers danced across the haptic keyboard, crossing entries off a handwritten list as he went. Eventually, he smiled, circling an address on the page. ["Let's go home,"] he said, smiling warmly._

Home, as it turned out, had been the hollow remains of an engineering firm. It was located right on the edge that separated gang territory from the good part of town, a narrow band of neutral ground. Most legitimate businesses didn't want to touch it, and it wasn't the right kind of building to use as a front or to launder money. There was a homeless shelter nearby, so people only usually squatted on the ground floor when it was full. Having made their home on the 6th floor, they were all but invisible. Holly spent her days here while Artemis was out and about, pilfering and swindling to keep them going. She would alternate between learning English, exercising, and learning how to fly.

Flying with wings of her own was more difficult than strapping on a set of Koboi Double Decks. She was used to controlling her flight with her arms, rather than shifting her weight. And she still couldn't keep them flapping for more than short bursts. She'd learned rather quickly that her 'heritage' was hummingbird. Her wings were mostly brown with iridescent green at the shoulderblades, and they nearly vanished when she got them moving. They could just barely lift her off the ground for a few seconds, but she was getting better every day.

Artemis arrived late in the evening, as the sun was beginning to set. Holly raised an eyebrow at his clothes."You clothes..." she began, trying to find the words. "You changed them?"

" _Your clothes_ ," he corrected with a smile. "And yes, I did." He switched to gnommish. ["Tonight, we eat real food and we sleep on real beds."] He smiled wide as he laid the briefcase on a nearby desk and opened it. Dozens of stacks of Lien all but glittered up at her. Her jaw dropped.

"What?" The word fell out of her mouth like a dropped plate. ["Artemis, what did you do and how illegal was it?"]

["Swindled a casino, and technically it wasn't illegal at all."] Artemis grinned. ["I've heard that Vacuan place down the road has something resembling curry. I wonder if they have vole?"]

"Artemis..." Holly groaned. "Not jokes time. Be serious. Please." The broken English impressed Artemis. It was either dedication to learning a language, or determination to be able to yell at him in public. Either way, it was commendable.

["The casino was cheating. I caught them out, and implied I was with the local gambling authority. In short, I accepted a bribe."] Artemis explained patiently, switching languages again. "Even if I had committed any crimes, they can't legally touch me without implicating themselves."

Holly massaged her forehead with one hand, trying to parse the English. She was really starting to hate how easy it was for him to sway from one tongue to another, like a very smug metronome. "Alright," she said. "Dead for a shower anyway."

"Dying for a-" Artemis began, stopping as Holly shot him a look. "Right then, let's go get checked into a suite. I'll have food delivered." Holly smiled as she slipped her Neutrino into its holster and threw the baggy hoodie on over it. Artemis tossed their few belongings into a cheap drawstring bag and shouldered it. They didn't have much. The food, unused dust, Holly's English books, a change of clothes, Artemis' almost entirely useless cell phone, and the tattered remains of Holly's Section 8 jumpsuit. With the bag over his shoulder and the briefcase in hand, Artemis held the door open for Holly.

["Shame we'll probably never come back here,"] Holly said, with an almost fond smile. ["It was almost starting to feel like home."]

Artemis smiled back. "I'm glad you feel that way," he said with a hint of mischief in his voice. "Seeing as I plan to buy the building. It's no manor, that's for certain..." he said. "But for our rather unique requirements, it'll be more than adequate."

Holly stared at her companion, incredulous. "Were you planning this at the... the..." she sighed, not finding the word. "The book place? All this time?"

Artemis grinned. "Library," he said. ["And yes, I was. It's like chess, Holly. If you're not thinking ahead, you're not winning."]


	2. Chapter 2

For the next few days, Holly and Artemis indulged in some much needed rest and relaxation. After sleeping on desks for a few weeks, the both of them slept long and deep on comfortable beds. They decided to simply recover for a time, and spent the days working on Holly's English while Artemis pecked away at the keyboard of his Scroll. He brokered a deal to purchase the building for roughly half of the take from the Mockingjay job, with another few thousand to secure the building and renovate the sixth floor into a livable apartment.

"In a week's time, we'll be able to move back in and we would still have enough money to live comfortably for a few months." Artemis said. "So we can proceed with phase two."

"This plan has phases?" Holly asked, not sure if she liked what she was hearing.

"Yes, several." Artemis said. "Our next move is the Ritual."  
["The Ritual?"] Holly asked, confirming the words.

Artemis nodded. "Yes. My hypothesis is that our magic is different from this world's 'local flavor' so to speak. It's possible that we could get usable magic if we perform the ritual here."

["It can't be that simple,"] Holly said. "Would have did it already."

"Ah, 'done it," Artemis corrected. "And yes, this is where things get complicated." He pulls up a map on the scroll. "The closest oak grove near a river is about twenty kilometers from the city, and the area is too rough to land if we flew." He pointed to another place on the map. "We'd have to land two kilometers away, here, and hike to the river. From there we'd have to trace the river until we found an oak tree of sufficient age."

"What about the Grimm?" She asked, a slight chill crawling up her spine.

_They'd dealt with Grimm on their way to Vale. They had been able to see the city from the top of a hill, and had hiked toward it for several hours as the sun slowly set. It had been eerily quiet for some time and the silence had both of them on edge as they wondered what predator could be lurking in the shadows. Holly had her neutrino drawn and they were both moving carefully and quietly. Then a twig snapped behind them. Holly whirled around to see a monster, some horrific beast wrought of crude oil and broken bones, wearing a canine mask painted with blood._

_["Duck!"]_

_She fired her Neutrino as it lunged, missing by inches. She rolled to dodge, fingers flying over the weapon. She tweaked the spread wider, to compensate her altered fingers, and cranked the power as high as it would go. The maximum setting only stunned it for a few seconds before it sluggishly hauled itself off the ground. "D'arvit!" She fired once more, then they ran. They sprinted like only those running for their very lives can, Holly turning every few seconds to fire and allow Artemis to catch up. The creatures hunted in packs, it seemed, because there were more of them every time she turned to fire a volley. The monsters kept gaining as their hearts hammered and their lungs heaved. They broke through the clearing, finally in view of the city walls, and they heard the sound of gunfire and yelps of pain behind them. As they reached the gates, they turned to see the creatures lying on the ground, slowly sublimating like smoke off a dying fire._

"No way around it," Artemis said. "We'll have to hire a Hunter, on top of commissioning the flight. It'll leave us about a month's living expenses after, if I've done the math right." He trailed off, fingers tapping on the scroll.

"Hunter or not," Holly began. "I need a gun. Something made for Grimm." Holly loved her Neutrino, but the Grimm had barely been phased. If she was leaving the city, she'd be loaded for troll... or Beowulf at the very least.

"There are several reputable arms dealers in walking distance," Artemis pointed out, pulling up the relevant addresses. "Hardly surprising given our proximity to Beacon. Campbell Armements seem to be the economic choice, but their products suffer as a result of cost cutting measures. Wizard Boomsticks favors heavy weapons and high explosives. Looks like Nomad Munitions is our best bet for something durable without being overwrought..." He trailed off as Holly smiled.

Hours later, they'd progressed through all three of those and several others as Holly carefully examined the inventories. She took pistol after pistol in her hands, testing balance, glaring down iron sights, and otherwise evaluating firearms of all kinds. The Neutrino was a very large shoe to fill, and Holly wouldn't settle for anything less than the best. She finally found a candidate as the afternoon began to wane, in a shop called the Gunhaus. The pistol in question, according to the shopkeep, was the high-end 'Fractal Classic' from S.D.C. Arms. Chambered for .45 magnum rounds with a ten shot magazine. A port beneath the slide would open up to accept a cartridge of dust to coat the rounds as they left the barrel. It was an excellent piece, as good as it got without trading up to a rifle or commissioning something less than standard. And it was at a fair price... or at least that's what the sticker said.

"I'll take it," Holly said to the shop keep. She pretended not to hear Artemis muttering "Thank Frond." She laid out the stack of cards on the counter. The cashier, a burly man with short cropped hair, merely smirked and tapped the top of the register. The price was different.

"So sorry ma'am. It looks like you don't have enough." He spoke in a sickly sweet voice on the edge of sarcasm. "You might want to try a more modest store."

Artemis narrowed his eyes. "Exactly ten times the price advertised," he said, dryly. "I wonder... are you incompetent for failing to price the item correctly, or for assuming such an obviously fraudulent markup would go unnoticed?" He spoke as a connoisseur, unimpressed with something on his plate.

"Oh I'm so sorry," the cashier said, his voice dripping sarcasm like tainted honey. "Let me apply a discount for you." He tapped a few keys, and another zero appeared on the end of the price. Artemis almost scoffed.. In another world, he'd simply purchase it at the inflated price, then come in after his shift to have the overpricing issue resolved and the cashier sacked. The lack of his usual resources was beginning to chafe again.

"Sexist or racist?" Holly asked, bluntly. She glared daggers at the cashier, daring him to answer.

"Oh I could never. The sticker price was simply a sale price that hadn't been removed," he lied smoothly. "I'm afraid I can't lower the price any more." He smiled maliciously. "You might try Campbell Arms, if you're looking for something a bit more... modest."

There was a blunt impact and a strangled ringing noise as the bell over the shop door was knocked from the frame, bouncing sadly across the floor. The door had been kicked open, and a monochromatic assortment of well-dressed thugs strolled into the establishment. Two of them were carrying crude machetes, painted red. The other two carried the same low-end pistols that Holly had passed over at Campbell Arms.

"Hands in the air," said the lead thug, pistol leveled in an embarrassing horizontal grip. The shopkeep reached for the sky. Holly's arms were held loosely up, and slightly forward. Artemis didn't raise his arms at all. He glared in open contempt at the thug.

"Gangster style?" Artemis spat, as if he'd tasted something foul. "You cannot be serious."

The thug pointed the gun at him. "Hands in the air."

"Rotate your wrist," Artemis commanded, his mismatched glare boring holes in the thugs trendy sunglasses. "If you're going to threaten me, do it properly." He had the attention of the crowd now, drawing incredulous stares from everyone involved... except for one. Holly crept closer as Artemis continued, cloaked by his audacity. Artemis grew bolder, stepping closer. "Can you even hit me at this range?" The thug fired a shot. Predictably, the shot barely grazed his shoulder. Artemis barely winced, and stepped closer still.

"Hands in the-" the thug growled.

"Yes yes, you've said," Artemis cut him off. "Observe." He stepped to the side, out of line of fire, as he grabbed at the thug's gun. It discharged uselessly into the empty shop behind, and Artemis grabbed the top of the pistol. He forced back the slide.

"The motion of the slide pulls the entire gun in this direction before the bullet has even exited the barrel. Holding your weapon like this guarantees that your shot is always going to be several feet to the left of where you're aiming." He grabbed the stock with his other hand, and forcibly rotated the gun. "Holding your weapon _properly,_ " he hissed, sparing a second glance to confirm Holly was indeed taking the opportunity. "Allows gravity to mitigate this, and the round actually has a chance of making it to the target. Though I suppose that's expecting too much competence from you."

He removed his hands from the weapon, backing up slightly. The thug whipped the pistol across his temple, spangling his vision with stars. The thug kicked him in the chest, and the next thing Artemis knew, he was staring at the ceiling. Flat on his back, the thug stepped up to him, racking the slide on his pistol. "I'm going to enjoy this," he hissed, leveling the pistol at Artemis. He frowned, rotated the gun, and pulled the trigger. 'Click.' He blinked dumbly. He racked the slide and pulled again. 'Click.' And again. 'Click. Click. Click.'

Ordinarily, Artemis was not a violent man. Despite a few passing efforts from Butler, he was completely inept in a straight fight. So, true to form, Artemis resorted to the most underhanded move he could possibly make. With all of his strength, he aimed a kick at the man's groin. The man coughed, and groaned in rising pitch as he doubled over. Given the opportunity, Artemis kicked him in the face, shattering the sunglasses and sending the thug toppling to the floor as he cradled his family jewels. He didn't react as Artemis scampered behind a display.

Holly had stepped slowly, and quietly, years of recon training silencing her footfalls. She crouched low, keeping out of the line of sight as she crept to the other thug with a pistol. When she heard the thud of a body behind her, she acted. Lunging forward, the former officer grabbed the barrel and twisted the gun followed by his wrist. A quick disarm with practiced ease. Continuing the motion, her leg swept into his. She forced his shoulder back with her free hand, and he knocked his head on a shelf of ammo boxes as he fell. A flash of blue rolled over his body as he clutched his head in a daze.

The other thugs reacted far too late to do any good. Holly charged, firing three rounds into center mass. The first thug's aura broke as he slashed at her. She ducked low under the blade and sunk a punch into his stomach. As he bent from the blow, she spun on her heel and grabbed the wrist that held the blade and shouldered his arm to throw him hard into the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, Holly saw the other raise his machete over his head. She kept her momentum, throwing herself into a roll.

"AAAAARGH!" screamed someone behind her. The thug she had thrown was clutching his leg as it poured blood. The other thug advanced on her, swinging back his bloodstained blade. Holly fired into his chest until his aura broke. She spun it in her grip as she darted forward. He chopped down at her again, and she dodged to the side before bringing the grip of the gun down like a hammer onto his shoulder, cracking bone. The machete clattered to the ground. She kicked out his knee from the side, dropping him low. Once more she swung the pistol, a single blow to the head knocking him out.

As the lead thug finally picked himself up off the floor, rubbing the back of his head, he came face to face with a pistol aimed right between his eyes. Wisely, he raised his arms without a word.

As the shopkeep called for the police, Artemis picked a sharp knife out of a display, and ripped open the box. He approached the man who'd been injured.

"I'm prepared to administer first aid," he said. "I need you to release your leg so I can cut away the trousers.

The man nodded, grit his teeth, and released the limb. Artemis worked quickly, slicing a line up the length of the trousers and rolling them past the wound. It was deep, but not too bad... he was losing a lot of blood though.

"Keep applying pressure,' he said, followed with. "I'm going to remove your tie, for a tourniquet."

"Why are you helping me?" he asked, as Artemis loosened the windsor knot. "We just tried to..." He trailed off. He didn't need to say it.

"I could give you all manner of reasons." Artemis said as he began to wrap just above the wound. "I could tell you it was because I didn't want to watch you suffer, or that I believed you would do the same in my position. But I am neither so compassionate, nor naive." He pulled the knot tight. "In truth? It just feels like the right thing to do. The battle is over, the losers are docile, and the police are en route. Death by negligence is unnecessary."

Something caught his eye. A slight glow along the edge of the wound. He watched it carefully. The blood began to seep slower, and the wound seemed to slowly shorten as he watched.

"Fascinating..." Artemis said. "I don't suppose you feel like explaining?"

The thug raised an eyebrow. "It's Aura. I'm not gonna pretend I know a lot about it. Makes you harder to hurt, makes you heal faster. You can beef up a crappy weapon with it."

"Is it common?" Artemis asked, the implications already being able to filter through his brain.  
"Not really. Doesn't really come up unless your profession calls for it." The man said. "It takes some getting used to, and you need to work at using it right. Worth it if you get shot at... Or cut... by your own guys." He shot a glare at a thug nearby, still out cold.

Holly greeted the police at the door, delivering a situation report with mechanical efficiency. The officer raised a brow. "You an officer?" Asked the sergeant as she pulled out a pen and started jotting down notes.

"Ye-.." Holly stopped. "I was. It's been ages since I wore a badge though."

"Well you should apply. We can always use experienced officers." She smiled, and proceeded into the store to interview the cashier. As the authorities led the crooks away in handcuffs, Holly watched Artemis give a statement to the officer. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but she watched as he reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a magazine.

' _No,'_ Holly thought. ' _He couldn't have.'_ He followed that up with a loose round from the pocket of his trousers. The officer kind of looked at the ammo, then back up at Artemis. His free hand darted across his pockets, wisely ensuring they hadn't been picked, and he walked away. ' _Of course he did.'_

It wasn't until they arrived back at the hotel, still without a gun, that they'd compared notes about the incident, and what exactly Artemis had done to buy Holly the time she needed to act.

"So let me get this straight, mud-boy," Holly said, once back in the safety of their hotel suite. "You palmed the magazine?"

"And the round from the chamber," He said. "I really shouldn't have gotten away with that. I imagine his employer would have harsh words for him."

"I have harsh words for you right now," Holly growled. "What were you doing back there? I know for a fact you're smarter than that."

"Think it through Captain," Artemis said, calmly. "If I hadn't done something, we'd both be dead. The shopkeep too, I suppose."

Her rank caught her off guard. She thought about the situation, wondering what Artemis was getting at... and the pieces started to fall into place.

"They weren't wearing masks," She said. "They were wearing uniforms."

"Indeed," Artemis said.

"An organized group, likely the type that conveniently has witnesses to place them anywhere but the scene of the crime..." she stopped, looking at Artemis. "They can get away with anything."

"Correct. You see it all the time in the smaller syndicates." Artemis said. "The uniform creates notoriety, and obfuscates numbers and identities. Given the ineptitude, this was probably a 'rite of passage' crime. Something to prove they were worth the boss' time."

"Artemis, he could have killed you. One slip up, and you'd have far worse than a graze." Holly said, grimly. Artemis was silent. There was no sound in the room save for the ticking of a clock. Holly was about to speak again, when he finally spoke.

"An hour per second, for a count of forty," he said, almost mumbling. "Then thirty minutes per second for a count of eighteen. Then backward, one minute per second for a count of two."

' _Abbot...'_ Holly shivered. A part of her still remembered what it felt like, when the blade ran her through. "Artemis, that didn't happen. It will _never_ happen. You made sure of it." She wished she'd seen it, the shot that Artemis had made through a hole in time itself to undo her untimely demise.

"That formula is burned into my mind Holly. That image, that ghost of a memory still haunts me. I could never bear the burden of watching it come truly, permanently to pass. If I had given my life to preserve yours, I would consider it a coin well spent."


	3. Chapter 3

Artemis was reading the local paper in the hotel's lobby as he enjoyed the provided continental breakfast, when the concierge approached him.

"Mister Fowl?" he asked. Artemis raised an eyebrow, and gave a curt nod.

"A package was left for you at the front desk," he said with a smile. He presented a black box, with a note tied to it with a red ribbon. Artemis knew that color scheme, and he had a feeling he knew who'd sent the package. His first thought was to refuse it... but if it turned out to be dangerous, then he'd be leaving the first person to get curious to deal with the consequences. He cursed mentally. This damned conscience was beginning to be a problem.

"Thank you," he said. He took the package, then folded the paper and set it aside. He drained what was left of his coffee, and returned to the room. Holly was already up, preening her feathers. She was reaching over her shoulder, carefully smoothing and adjusting one feather after the next. Every few feathers she'd dip her fingers in a small tub of coconut oil, then return to the work. Surprisingly, Holly never found it tedious. She'd described it as kind of instinctively soothing, almost meditative.

"Coffee still on?" She asked, not looking up. Artemis thought quickly. If this was a bomb, it would be better to try to disarm it while Holly wasn't in the room. If it was an inhaled pathogen or toxin, he could isolate the room without harming her. But she'd never leave if she knew.

"Last I checked," he started, sitting down on the bed and setting the package down on the floor. He spoke again, to cover the sound as he slid it beneath the bed with his heel. "A bit burnt though. You may want an extra spoon of sugar."

"Mmm." replied the former Captain, still focused on her preening.

Good. She hadn't heard it. She'd be safe. Artemis laid back on the bed, fiddling with his scroll while he waited for Holly to head down for breakfast. He answered a few queries from the team he had renovating the building, opting for the better rated locks and selecting a few color swatches. He checked to see if anyone had answered their ad for a Hunter, and found nothing. He sent a query to the library for books on Aura as Holly finally smoothed her wings down and headed out of the suite for breakfast.

Artemis retrieved the box and set it on the desk, pulling out the knife from the day prior. He hadn't actually realized he'd stolen it at the time, he'd merely pocketed it when he'd finished with it out of habit. He'd discovered it last night and cleaned it. He was glad he had.

Carefully, he sliced through the edges of the box lid with the tip of the knife. He gently pried it up a crack, peering into the box under the desk light. No trigger mechanism, so not a bomb. Or at least, not that type of bomb.

He grabbed the baggy t-shirt with the cereal mascot, and soaked it in the bathroom sink. He tied it around his face. Not a gas mask, but it would catch most of any powder based poison. He finished cutting off the box lid. Inside was a gun. Not just any gun of course, this was the very gun from the shop last night. An S.D.C. Arms Fractal Classic. The sender had even included accoutrements, including a spare magazine, a neat array of .45 rounds, and two empty vials of the type to be slotted into the weapon. All arrayed neatly in a foam block. Still suspicious, he sliced away a side of the package, and peeled up the foam to check its underside. Nothing. A gift, not a curse. He picked up the accompanying note, and freed it from its small envelope.

" _To Whom it May Concern,_

_Please accept this gift to express my gratitude on behalf of my employees. Thanks to your restraint and compassion, they were liberated from the prison and the hospital instead of the morgue. The shopkeeper claimed you were interested in this pistol, and I just happened to come across one. Use it in good health._

_-J"_

Artemis smiled. It was a familiar, vampiric smile. They had managed to fumble their way into the good graces of one of the local gangs. And judging by the lack of news coverage about a breakout, one that could influence the local law enforcement. He checked the serial numbers. The ones on the gun itself had been filed of course, that was as traditional as it was practical. However they had missed the ones on the magazines. Artemis smiled, looking forward to tracking down their mysterious benefactor.

"This seat taken?" Downstairs, Holly had been enjoying a tray of fruits with her coffee when someone had approached her table. It was a familiar face: caramel skin, amber eyes, dark hair, and a gold badge. The officer on scene from the attempted robbery, wearing a friendly smile.

"Not at all," Holly said. "I didn't get your name before, Sergeant...?"

"Royal," she smiled and sat at the table. "But please, call me Scarlet." She took a sip of her coffee and cringed. Artemis had been right to suggest the sugar, but even after four packets it was still on the bitter side. She found herself taking everything sweeter than she used to these days. She reasoned it likely had something to do with her newfound heritage. It felt strange to even think about. Holly slid the small rack of packets forward, and the sergeant gratefully began tearing open sugar and powdered creamer.

"I'm not here in any official capacity," Scarlet said. "But I saw you in action in the security footage. It was brilliant! Quick, clean, and damned impressive." She took another sip of coffee, frowned, and added more sugar.

"I learned from the best," Holly smiled with nostalgic pride. Her Recon days seemed so long ago now.

"Clearly," the Sergeant smiled. "That's a curious accent by the way. Where did you walk your beat?"

"Haven," Holly said, reflexively. Her stomach dropped a notch when she realized that she'd told the truth. She lifted the coffee cup to her lips to try and hide the brief moment of panic while she tried to think of what to say next.

"Oh you're from Mistral!" She grinned. "Beignet owes me a thousand lien. He thought you were from Vacuo." Holly made a mental note to work on her accent as she breathed a sigh of relief. "And no wonder you're a badass with a beat like that," the cop continued.

Holly shrugged "It is what it is." Of course she had no idea what 'it' was.

"So how'd you get the boot?" Royal said, leaning back in her chair. She crossed her legs under the table. "They had to have had a good reason to let someone with your skills walk." Holly thought quickly. She didn't know anything about this world's Haven. It had to be a decently sized place if it was so well known. She couldn't make anything up... but she could play off her assumptions.

Ironically, her wings came with some heavy baggage. Her kind only had equal rights after a revolution that was fairly recent. Discrimination was rampant. It was like dwarves vs goblins all over again, only this time she was a goblin. Not that the analogy was perfect. Goblins brought most of their problems on themselves, they were power hungry and confrontational by nature. But Faunus were just people. They were different, they were outnumbered, and unfortunately that seemed to be enough. Holly shrugged, and fluttered her wings a bit. "Guess."

Royal frowned. "That's just not right. You put in so much time and effort, and one backward thinking neanderthal ruins everything. Criminal."

"Speaking from experience?" Holly asked.

"You could sssssay that," Royal smirked, stretching a thin forked tongue from her mouth as she drew the word out into a hiss. She then blinked in confusion for a moment. "Coconut?"

Holly nodded, flexing her wings. "You could call it conditioner," she said. "Wings are pretty high maintenance."

"They're so pretty..." Royal said wistfully... "You ever try to fly?"

"I can manage about ten minutes or so," Holly said, sipping her coffee. "I'm working on improving my endurance though" Royal's jaw fell open.

"Wait, seriously? I was kidding!" She said, aghast. "You can actually fly? Not gliding?"

"Yes?" Holly said. "Is that strange? I haven't exactly met anyone else with wings."

"I knew a guy with bat wings a couple years ago. He could glide as long as he liked, but he couldn't fly without dust. And even then he wasn't that good at it." Royal jumped out of her seat, her coffee forgotten entirely. "Come on, you have to show me!"

Holly would have been glad to of course. Anybody who'd ever strapped on a decent pair of wings was always up for an exhibition flight. But at that moment, her scroll rang. Only one person had the number of course.

"I need to take this," Holly said. She slid the gizmo open. "Short."

"If you're finished with breakfast, you've received a package that we ought to discuss." Artemis said. She could almost hear that damned smile over the phone.

"Can it wait, Artemis?" Holly said. "I'm in the middle of something."

"Someone sent you a firearm," Artemis said, bluntly. "Anonymously. The same type you were trying to purchase yesterday." Holly took a moment to swallow her surprise.

"I'll be right up," Holly closed the scroll. "Rain check?"

"Got a fire to put out?" Royal asked, sympathetically.

"I hope not," Holly sighed.

Holly emerged from the elevator a few minutes later, after swapping numbers with Royal. She swiped her keycard at the door and found Artemis at the desk with the gun laid out on the table next to a mound of severed cardboard, and a note. She skimmed it.

"Did I just get a 'thank you' note from a gang?" she asked, incredulous. "There's no way that gun is clean."

Artemis nodded. "The pistol itself had its serial number filed, but they didn't file the magazines. I queried the company, and the gun was legally purchased this morning. It seems our mysterious benefactor didn't pilfer it."

Holly raised an eyebrow. "So why file the serial number?"

"Tradition mostly," Artemis said. "It started with stolen arms of course, but most goods that even touch the black market are scrubbed regardless of their legality. Prevents them from being tracked no matter what the wielder gets up to."

"So potentially not a criminal?" Holly said doubtfully.

"Definitely criminal adjacent." Artemis said. "Filing serial numbers is not a habit one acquires by accident."

Holly picked up the gun, inspecting it. She suspected it was the very gun she'd examined in the shop, but there was no way to know for sure. She began loading the bullets into the magazine. "So who purchased the magazines?" Holly asked as she thumbed in another round.

"According to the receipt I requested, it was purchased with a company credit card," Artemis said. "A nightclub in a seedier district. Care to pay them a visit?"

"Probably for the best, " Holly sighed. "Best to know who we're dealing with."

Artemis smiled. "Then we have some preparation to take care of. There's a few clothiers nearby that do on-site tailoring. We'll both need that."

"For what?" Holly asked, wondering why she suddenly felt like she'd stepped in a bear trap. "You already have a suit-" it clicked. "Oh _D'arvit._ You can't be serious."

"I am quite serious. It's a classy place, so you'll need something fairly formal. Perhaps a backless cocktail dress?" Artemis smirked.

"Oh I'm sure you'd love that, mud-boy," Holly sneered. "I'm sure I can find something more modest."


	4. Chapter 4

Several hours later, Holly was fuming in a backless cocktail dress while she waited in line at the club. _Hormonal little brat must have bribed them._ She thought, bitterly. _Bullshit they couldn't figure out how to get around the wings. And does it have to be slit so far up the leg?_

Her dress was down to her ankles of course, but slit generously up the thigh. She looked like a million lien, and the dress did an adequate job of concealing the thigh holster for her new firearm. She was glad for the gun, but she was thoroughly missing her jumpsuit right now.

"Cold feet captain?" Artemis said, ahead of her in line. He'd found whatever passed for Armani here in Vale, and was wearing a pinstripe suit that looked daring compared to his usual flair... or lack thereof. "We can try again another night if you're not up to it," Artemis said. "I know the shopkeep was a bit pushy about the dress but-"

"I'm fine, mud-boy," Holly huffed. "Let's just get this over with so I never have to wear this thing again."

A woman with black hair and an ornate red outfit is at the door to the club, lazily waving people through after cursory glances at their IDs. When Artemis and Holly get to the door, she scoffs.

"Umm, like, I can't let you in."

Artemis raised an eyebrow, "I assure you, we have business here. Said business does not involve alcohol, I assure you."

"Not my problem babyface," She said. "You and your babysitter can get out of my line. Next?"

Someone tried to step forward, but Holly shot her a glare that would unsettle a troll. Artemis reached into his coat, and pulled out the note from the package. He handed it to the bouncer.

"This supposed to mean something to me?"

"Tell the one in charge that he's not as good at covering his tracks as he thinks he is." The woman rolled her eyes, but took out her scroll and snapped a picture. She sent it off, and the reply came back almost immediately. She heaved a dramatic sigh.

"Like, the boss wants to talk in the back. Follow Mel," she gestured to a woman in white approaching from the club. "Next!"

Artemis and Holly were led into the club, much to the annoyance of those next in line. They followed the woman in white past the bar, where the bartender followed close behind. There were men in uniforms that matched the robbery, scattered around the club. Each of them kept a careful eye on the both of them. Artemis noted that the bouncers and the bartender weren't wearing the same uniform. The bouncer at the door wore red, and the one that led them wore white, both rather overwrought outfits. At the same time however, they were armed. The woman and red had subtle, dark claws, easy to lose in the club's colors and lighting, and the woman in white had high heels that tapered into cutting blades. Artemis had to remind himself again that though this world's taste in weaponry was odd, it was no less effective. He had no way of knowing how well his opponents were armed, and he suddenly found himself missing Butler terribly.

Artemis just caught a glimpse of what would pass for an old fashioned 'Chicago Typewriter' stashed behind a rack of vinyl, as they passed the DJ booth for the back room. To Artemis's surprise, it wasn't a simple desk and chairs set up like his father had employed. It was a lounge. The bartender took a seat in a leather armchair and waved his arm toward a sectional sofa on the other side of a coffee table. Artemis and Holly each took a seat, but the bouncer in white remained by the door.

"So," the bartender began. "Not even a day goes by, and you manage to track me down. Impressive."

"Thank you," Artemis began. "I suppose you're Hei Xiong the Second?"

"Just 'Junior' is fine. It's a nightclub, kid. No need to be so formal."

"Force of habit," Artemis smiled. It was a careful smile, measured like a shot of whiskey.

"So," Junior asked. "Why are you here?" Artemis turned to Holly and gave her a quick nod.

"We came to thank you for the pistol," Holly said. "The cashier was being... difficult." Junior raised an eyebrow for a moment, but didn't comment.

"Fair enough," he said. "Frankly I should be thanking you. There aren't a lot of Hunters who stick around after a fight, much less provide first aid."

"Hunters?" Artemis asked. "I'm afraid you're mistaken. We're civilians."

"Mercenaries?" Junior asked. Holly could see where this was going. She had a feeling that admitting to being a former police officer here was a terrible idea.

"We used to live in an out-of the way village. I decided I'd rather not be Grimm-bait, so I learned to fight." Holly said. A little tension bled out of Artemis's shoulders.

"Yeah that'd do it," Junior said, seeming to buy it. "So if you're not a Huntress, what do you do?"

"I'm between jobs at the moment," Holly said, carefully stitching the story together in her head. She thought back to what she'd told Royal before. She flared her wings, and pointed a thumb behind her. "These cost me my last job,"

"Lot of that going around," Junior said. "What about you kid? You look about the age for Signal, and you've certainly got the brass for it." He couldn't stop a grin. "He's never going to live that down, you know that right?"

"Certainly not," Artemis smiled, a little less carefully perhaps. "I specialize in acquisition and resale. On both sides of the board."

"I take it you don't mean picking pockets," Junior said, his eyebrow raised.

"Antiques, artwork, precious metals," Artemis said as Holly rolled her eyes. "And of course, information. I imagine that last one interests you the most."

"Why would it?" Junior said, carefully. His tone was cautious but not quite malicious.

"No need to play coy Mr. Xiong," Artemis smiled. "Your bouncer told us we were meeting the boss. If the boss is a barkeep, he's an information broker. Not an uncommon arrangement."

"And I suppose you've come to buy?" Junior said.

"Not just yet, Mr. Xiong." Artemis said "As my colleague said, we came to thank you. I have a feeling that we'll have a lot of mutual business for each other."

"You're likely right, Mr. Fowl," Junior said, standing up and smoothing his vest. "I look forward to working with you, but if that's all I do have a business to run." Holly and Artemis stood as well, as Junior offered Artemis a handshake. "You're welcome to enjoy yourselves here tonight... though I do still have to card you."

"Of course," Artemis said, taking the handshake. "I wouldn't want to jeopardize your liquor license."

Artemis would be the first to admit the club scene was not for him. Flashing lights, thumping bass, and free flowing alcohol didn't appeal to him. It was a place to lose oneself, a place of mindless escapism. However, it would be quite rude to leave immediately after his new associate extended his hospitality. So Holly and Artemis sat at the bar, and ordered from one of Juniors photocopied underlings. They had been issued IDs when they arrived in Vale. Artemis used his actual date of birth, backdated an appropriate fifteen years, and advised Holly that she'd pass for seventeen. Thus, neither of them could legally drink. Artemis ordered an iced tea with a twist of lemon, while Holly ordered a virgin strawberry sunrise. They contented themselves watching the crowd

"So that's what this was about?" Holly asked, a slight air of disappointment in her voice. "Criminal..." she paused. She lost the word. It was happening less and less, but she'd only been learning for a few weeks. ["Networking?"]

"I realize you don't approve," Artemis said. "But we-

Holly cut him off. "They kill people, Artemis," she growled, keeping her voice low. "You might have kept blood off your hands, but this is a gang."

"I am aware, Captain Short," Artemis replied. "I don't make this allegiance lightly. This isn't the first time I've had to get my hands dirty."

Holly swallowed. For an instant, she was looking at a younger Artemis. The one who had locked her in a cellar what seemed like a lifetime ago. They had been through so much together, it was easy to forget what set them apart. She sighed.

"So where do we go from here?" Holly asked. "What's the next step?"

"For now we need to finish establishing ourselves," Artemis began. "A stable home base, and steady income. We've got half of that down, the renovations should be finished soon."

"I could get a job," Holly said. "Royal was practically salivating over me."

"Royal?" Artemis asked.

"The officer who took statements after the robbery. She stopped by for a chat while you were defusing the mail," Holly smiled. "Apparently, faunus that can actually fly are rare, even if they have wings."

"That seems unusual," Artemis said.

"I think she's trying to recruit me," Holly smiled.  
"Ah, that might be worth looking into." Artemis smiled. "I can look up their requirements to see if we need to fabricate a paper trail."

"Do we really need to do that?" Holly asked.

"As far as Vale is concerned, we didn't exist until the moment we first got here. A background check is not ideal if you don't have a background."

"I suppose you're right," Holly sighed.

The mood in the club shifted, and they both felt it. Juniors men were converging near the bar where- Artemis nearly dropped his drink. There was a blonde woman at the bar, wearing thick yellow bracelets and an outfit that left little to the imagination. She was attractive, and she knew it, but her outfit was out of place at a nightclub. A tight vested shirt, most of a skirt, and a scarf that only served to accentuate her cleavage. But that wasn't why Artemis was staring. No, Artemis was staring because this woman had Junior's family jewels in a death grip.

"Holly, something tells me you ought to keep a hand on your gun." Artemis said.

It looked, for one naive moment, like the conflict would resolve peacefully. The blonde was leaning forward to 'kiss and make-up'... and then she suckerpunched him through a decorative pillar and into the bar wall where they kept the top shelf liquor. As the staff circled her armed with fire axes and machetes, her bracelets expanded, covering her forearms. She drew her fist back sharply, and a single shotgun shell clattered across the floor.

"Huntress?" Holly asked, uncertainly.

The blonde leapt dozens of feet into the air as the staff rushed her, and brought her fist down on the club floor. There was a small explosion and a visible shockwave as the plastic floor panels bucked the suits off their feet.

"Huntress." Artemis confirmed.

The resulting melee was short and painful. The bracers weren't just armor, they had shotguns built into them. It was brutally genius. A point blank shotgun blast delivered in time with an evidently powerful blunt force. And if that wasn't enough, she was utilizing the recoil to bounce around the skirmish. The DJ pulled the tommy gun, but his aim was pathetic. She danced around his desperate spray, leapt up to the DJ booth and slammed him into the wall.

Holly had seen enough, and she drew her Fractal Classic. She pulled a dust cartridge without checking which it was, slotted it beneath the barrel, and racked the slide to put a round in the chamber. The DJ hit the dance floor as the bouncers stepped in, where they had been during this mess Holly couldn't fathom. They said something that Holly couldn't hear over the music, and the blonde ejected her spent cartridges all over the floor. Then she made a mistake. A classic mistake. A mistake that any decent police academy trained out of its recruits. The blonde showed off. She tossed two chains of shells into the air, moving through a practiced pose to reload. Holly took aim and snapped off two shots. The blonde faltered when she never felt the rounds lock into place, and she heard something crystalline behind her. A glance over her shoulder confirmed, her bullets were frozen to the wall by a growing patch of ice crystals. She glared daggers at Holly and leapt off the booth.

She bolted straight for Holly, ignoring the bouncers, which proved to be a mistake. The one in white struck low, taking the blondes feet out from under her and forcing her into a roll. The one in red landed a glancing blow to the back of her head. She came out of the roll with her guard up and ready only to watch a few of her golden locks drift slowly to the ground. The blonde yelled in anger, and flames ignited in the air around her. She matched the bouncers blow for blow, not appearing to care about the hits she took. If anything it made the fire burn brighter whenever one of the bouncers raked their blade across her. Holly took careful aim.

The blond kicked the white bouncer's leg out from under her and Holly fired, freezing the blonde's other leg to the floor. She windmilled for a moment, fighting to keep her balance, and the bouncer in red took the chance for a vicious uppercut. The ice shattered, and sent the blonde flying toward Holly. Holly's wings buzzed to life, but she hadn't used them in combat. She wasn't quite quick enough. The blonde grabbed her by the ankle and yanked her down. Holly leaned back to reduce the impact of a vicious haymaker, but it still sent her through one of the decorative pillars. She stood shakily, missing her magic as she felt a dozen cuts and scrapes begin to seep blood. One in particular was on her cheek, and she could feel the blood beginning to drip down off her chin.

The blonde's jaw dropped in shock."You're not even a cop! Stay out of this or-"

Holly didn't hesitate. She snapped two more shots off, pinning both legs to the ground with ice. Then two more to her gauntlets. Three more locked her arms and legs in place, then she dropped the magazine and slammed another into place.

"I'm only going to say this once," Holly growled as she racked the slide. "Freeze."


	5. Chapter 5

The morning after one Yang Xiao Long was arrested in a nightclub, a huntress perused a board of requests for Hunters. She tapped on the controls, cycling through job after job. One sounded absurdly boring, one sounded too tough for one woman, another was a thinly veiled attempt to get compromising photos in the red light district (to which she rolled her eyes and flagged it for removal), but one caught her eye. It had been innocent, innocuous, and yet there was something strangely off about it.

"Hunter or Huntress wanted for an agricultural survey. Samples of oak seeds to be collected from a specific location to determine the effects of local conditions on common plant life. Hunter or Huntress will be required to accompany two surveyors to a landing site, and then hike to site. The job does not encroach on grimm-dense territory or on difficult terrain. Hunter or Huntress will be expected to bring sufficient ammunition, but will be provided trail rations and water. The expedition will begin at 7PM, and likely end around midnight. Full teams need not apply, unless they are willing to split a single share of pay."

The map, however, was a very odd location. It depicted a river with several twists and turns, a brief hike from a clearing. But there weren't any interesting conditions to be found there, the whole place was in the middle of nowhere. Nothing different about the area than any other stretch of forest. In fact, most universities and laboratories would just make a deal with Beacon for this type of thing. They get their protection for a song, and Beacon gets a milk run to help the freshman class learn the ropes. So why ask for a qualified Huntress?

She tapped a few buttons to claim the mission. It turned green, and the text was obscured by her name and emblem to mark her claim. "Mission Claimed: Amber Harvest." She received a message on her scroll. A scroll code and instructions to contact 'at one's earliest convenience'.

Across the city, Artemis Fowl awoke to a long awaited message, and began tapping on the touch sensitive screen as Holly did her morning preening.

A. Harvest: Mr. Fowl, was it? I've claimed the 'Agricultural Expedition' job.

A. Fowl: Excellent. I look forward to working with you.

A. Harvest: I have to admit, it's a bit late for a nature hike. There a reason you wanted it to be done at night?

A. Fowl: There is, but not one you'd find important. Will this be a problem?

A. Harvest: No, I don't think so. Just curious. Will we be hauling equipment as well?

A. Fowl: Not necessary. A small sample jar is sufficient, we'll handle that.

A. Harvest: No problem, I'll just focus on guard duty.

A. Fowl: Excellent. I'll send you further details once they're arranged. I look forward to doing business with you.

A. Harvest: The feeling is mutual.

Artemis switched to another window on his device. Another message thread.

A. Fowl: Mr. Xiong, I'd like to purchase information.

HXII: Like I said, call me Junior. What do you need?

A. Fowl: Simple background check on a Huntress. Amber Harvest.

HXII: 50,000 Lien.

A. Fowl: Cash or wire transfer?

HXII: Cash, just bring it to the club tonight. I'll have what you need.

A. Fowl: A pleasure doing business with you.

Artemis couldn't help but smile at the plan coming together.

"Holly?" He said, getting her attention. "Keep the 16th free. I might have found a huntress for our expedition."

Holly froze, mid-preen. The thought of magic flowing through her again was tantalizing.

"You did?" She said. "I almost thought you weren't looking."

"A huntress responded to the ad, and I'm having Junior run a background check just in case. He'll have preliminary results tonight."

"That's good to hear." Holly grinned.

"We're meeting with Junior tonight to discuss his findings, and we have another meeting with the contractors about the renovations this afternoon-" Artemis began.

"Actually," Holly cut him off. "I made plans."

"Did you?" Artemis said, slightly taken aback. He was used to people doing what he said and he had to remind himself that unlike Butler, Holly didn't share that obligation. "Might I ask?"

"Royal wanted to see me fly." Holly grinned. "How could I pass that up?

Artemis swallowed his protest. He wasn't going to take this away from her."Fair enough. I suppose I can handle the meetings myself," he said, carefully filtering the sarcasm from his tone. Alone... The thought made him nervous, especially a world away from home.

The two enjoyed a light lunch at a nearby cafe, salads and iced tea, and then went their separate ways. Holly waited for Royal at the cafe for a half an hour after Artemis hailed a cab to go meet with the contractors at the building. She indulged in watching the people go by and enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin. She missed Haven of course, but when she was finally home she was sure she'd miss moments like these. She could swear that the colors were brighter.

She blinked. Now that she'd thought about it, she started paying attention. She closed one eye, her right, and the colors seemed muted around her. She swapped eyes and the world was suddenly vibrant! Colors flared, like someone had turned a monitor brighter. Her right eye, her own eye, saw the world so wonderfully brightly. But the one she'd borrowed from Artemis was normal. Muted in comparison. She made a mental note to ask Artemis if-

"What'cha lookin' at?"

Holly nearly jumped out of her skin. "Don't do that, Royal!" she gasped.

"I'm off duty," she grinned. "Scarlet, remember?"

"Right..." Holly stood up, and dug a couple of lien cards out of her pocket for a tip.

"Jeeze, Hols," Scarlet said, concerned. She brushed a finger against a bandage on Holly's arm. "What happened to you? You're all cut up!" Her tongue flicked out. "And you still smell like blood and dust."

Holly shrugged. "Did you hear about the thing at the nightclub last night? Junior's?"

Royal shook her head. "Not my precinct. Spill."

"A huntress started a fight, and she started showing off. I locked her down with a handgun and ice dust, but not before she decked me through a pillar."

"Wow. That must have been some fight if you're still aura low. How fast do you usually bounce back?" Royal asked.

"I've never really paid attention," Holly fibbed. Thankfully, she'd had the sense to have Artemis check the night before. Police officers always had their aura unlocked, if they didn't already have it unlocked when they enrolled. It was also mandatory for the fire department, but not emergency medical services. Artemis reasoned she could fib for a bit, but she would need to get it unlocked soon or her story would fall apart.

"You really ought to," she admonished. "Stuff like that can make a difference. Now come on, I'm parked around the corner."

Royal, as it turned out, drove a jet black convertible, which suited Holly just fine. She loved the wind flowing through her hair, and the air was so clean here. Open sky, and air that was neither sterile and stale nor choked with smog. The world was just so perfectly _real_.

"So," Holly said. "Tell me about your friends."

"Eh, one of them couldn't make it." Royal said. "Boyfriend drama, I think."

"And the other?"

"Oh you'll love Ami!" she grinned. "She was training to be a huntress, but it didn't work out. She's doing some freelancing as a bouncer at a few bars up north. And she's really into freerunning. I bet she could find a way to get anywhere you could fly."

"How'd you meet her?" Holly asked.

"Same way I met you! She kicked someone's ass, and I had to come haul him into the drunk tank." She was sporting a wide grin. "He was hilarious. He was all "I dunno what I just drank but I want another." She mimicked a low, hoarse slur before breaking into a fit of giggles.

They arrived at the venue, a city park with lots of wide open space. It was a very nice place. Green grass, tall trees, bike paths, and fountains. There were faunus everywhere. A couple with antlers and tall lupine ears were enjoying a picnic in the shade of a tree. An old man with low hanging dog ears walked a very similar looking basset hound. A bunch of kids with a wide assortment of tails and horns were playing some strange game with a black and white ball. It looked like a mudman game of football, but something was off about it.

"What? You never played hornball when you were a kid?" Royal asked when she caught her staring.

"No," Holly said. "I'm not sure what's going on."

"Pretty simple," Royal began. "Basically soccer, but you can only use your heritage to hit the ball. There are exceptions though. Bandana rules: If your heritage doesn't work for it, put a bandana on what you're using so people know. I used to just use my head."

"That explains so much," someone said behind them. They turned, and found a woman wearing an obvious smirk. She had a long brown ponytail, a light tan, and a very slender frame. She had birthmarks speckled across her face, like freckles, and a smirk a mile wide.

"Ami!" Royal grinned.

"Roy!" she responded, sarcastically. "Seriously, nobody else shortens it like that."

"Nobody else shortens it _right_!" Royal countered. "This is Hol."

Ami offered a handshake. "So is it true? Can you really fly?"

"You tell me," she said. Her wings hummed to life, leaping into the sustained twitch she found getting easier and easier. She floated off the ground, her arms crossed in front of her chest and a smug grin on her face at the looks on their faces. Scarlet had a smile a mile wide, and Ami's jaw was slack with amazement. And hers wasn't the only one, Holly's departure from the earth had drawn the crowd's attention immediately.

It was so freeing to fly for no real reason. No destination, no cares, just the wind and the sky. She vaulted skyward, her wings pumping harder to carry her closer to the sun. She banked backward, falling in a smooth loop until she raced forward at the bottom. The crowd was beginning to cheer. She darted quickly between the trees, threading them like a stunt pilot, before arching skyward. She slowed to a hover, swaying slightly in the wind several stories in the air. Showboating aside, this just didn't compare to a set of artificial wings. Sure, she could go faster on any decent set but nothing compared to the rush of adrenaline and endorphins that came from flying under her own power. It simply couldn't compare.

She was breathing hard, and she knew it'd be a better idea to land before her wings gave out. She was sweating as she dropped to her feet in front of Royal and Ami, the crowd still applauding.

"That was amazing!" Royal cheered. "That must have been like fifteen minutes!"

"More like ten," Ami smiled. "Still very impressive." They walked over to one of the park benches as the crowd dispersed. Holly guzzled half a sports drink and caught her breath.

"Are wings really that rare?" Holly asked. "I didn't expect to draw such a crowd."

"Yeah, and wings that can fly are even rarer." Ami said. "The muscles usually don't scale quite right."

"I wonder why," Holly said, idly. She caught Royal and Ami sharing an uncomfortable glance. "You know something," she said. It wasn't a question.

Royal sighed. "It's not a fun topic, Hols," she began. "Are you sure you want to know?"

Holly nodded, the change in mood making her a bit uneasy.

"We haven't always had the best lot in life," Royal began. "You oughta know that much. Faunus were captured, enslaved... even bred. We were treated like livestock. Faunus that could fly presented risks. When they could slip their chains they'd never be caught. Then they could free others, they could come after their masters, they could go find more faunus for reinforcements... Faunus with wings were seen as dangerous." She swallowed, clearly bothered by the topic.

Ami spoke up, covering what Royal was finding difficult to say. "They were too dangerous to leave alive... so they weren't."


	6. Chapter 6

Artemis Fowl was _not_ terrified. Artemis Fowl wasn't afraid, he was what people feared. But then... that wasn't quite true was it? Artemis Fowl was not an imposing figure, he was at best a scrawny adolescent who didn't get enough sun or exercise. Walking the streets of Vale in the dark of night, without the comforting presence of a hulking bodyguard was nothing short of nerve wracking. Artemis would be missing Butler terribly, if he wasn't so focused on identifying every shadow and noise as he closed the distance to Junior's nightclub.

He could swear the route was longer than he remembered it, but he did admit it could be his rather frayed nerves. He'd checked that street sign four times, he was definitely on the right path. The road seemed to stretch out before him for a moment before Artemis forced himself to remain calm. The meeting had shaken him to be certain, but he would not let it defeat him.

After a long, tense walk, Artemis arrived at the club. One of Junior's men waved him in and led him to Junior's office. Junior was nowhere to be seen, and neither were his bouncers. Moreover, the rest of his men were keeping a careful eye on him. Something was very wrong. He smoothed his jacket, as best he could... his earlier meeting had not been kind to his attire.

The man knocked twice on the door, and it opened from within. Artemis stepped forward hesitantly, and the thug shoved him into the room from behind. The door slammed shut, and he found a long scarlet blade at his throat. Militia, the bouncer in red, was glaring at him. Far from the bored, detached expression he'd come to associate with her. Perhaps they weren't quite as vapid as they appeared.

Melanie, the bouncer in white, had his hands all over him. She ran her hands down both legs, up his sides, his back, his chest

"Ew, I can count his ribs!"

He raised an eyebrow. Surely he wasn't that thin?

"And you're so pallid.."

"Said the pot to the kettle," he grumbled. He couldn't stop a little venom from dripping into his voice.

"Porcelain is chic," Militia smirked. "Rigor mortise is so last season."

Artemis rolled his eyes. This wasn't the first time he'd been frisked, but it was the first time it had come with commentary.

"Are you quite finished?" He asked as Melanie relieved him of his wallet, his scroll, a pilfered ballpoint and a pocket knife. These were laid on Junior's desk. He opened the scroll, and placed it in a divot on the desk that opened a screen. It began attempting to brute force his password. Artemis rolled his eyes. It would be at that for a while. The code architecture was foreign, but he'd still managed to install a few more layers of security.

"So. You lied to me," Junior growled. It wasn't a question. Artemis rolled his eyes. One of the girls bore down on his shoulder, forcing him down into the chair.

"Mr. Xiong, I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific," he growled.

"An associate of mine came calling the other day, asking after someone who'd swindled him," Junior began, steepling his fingers. "Jules Pyrite. I believe you've met." A holographic screen flared to life, displaying still images of the Mockingjay casino. Security camera footage, zoomed in on Artemis' face.

Artemis sighed, rolling his eyes. "The only lie I told him was an alias. And an obvious one at that. I fail to see how that translates to deceiving you."

Junior tapped on his scroll. Another image, a low quality picture of a cafe, likely snapped from a scroll. Holly conversing with a woman he hadn't met... _Brown skin, brunette... and a badge on her hip... D'arvit... the officer from the gun shop incident. Of course they recognized her._

"I can see your concern... Rest assured that Holly Short is no officer of the law. Her affiliation with myself and her own actions have guaranteed that." Artemis said smoothly.

Junior's eyes narrowed. "Don't try talkin' circles around me, Fowl. I've done my homework. Before you arrived in Vale, you don't fucking exist." He tapped his scroll again. More security footage, this time of Artemis and Holly, when they first checked into the city. He wore an ash caked three piece suit, and her jumpsuit was so shredded it was barely protecting her modesty.

"Care to explain how a couple of village rubes got motorcycle leathers and and a million lein suit?"

Artemis matched Junior's glare, and spoke surgically. Smooth, calm, and sharp.

"Well that's quite simple, Mr. Xiong... I don't." Junior's brow furrowed, but Artemis cut him off with a raised finger, silently demanding the floor. "You've already decided I'm lying, and the truth is stranger than fiction. I won't waste my breath. Besides, that's not what you need from me, is it?"

Junior settled back in his chair, an eyebrow raised in interest. "Alright kid, I'll bite," he began. "What do I need from you?" The kid had brass, he'd give him that.

"Assurance that neither of us are associated with the police. Proof that we won't let petty concerns like the law obstruct our business or, more importantly, yours."

Junior smiled. "What was it you claimed was your specialty again? Acquisition?"

"Precisely," Artemis smiled coldly, sending chills up Junior's spine. "Now then... let's talk business."

Holly was halfway through a cup of coffee, still waiting up when Artemis returned to the suite, breathing hard as if he'd just run a marathon.

"Artemis?" She asked, abandoning the mug. "What happened?"

"Oh nothing," Artemis snapped. "Just weeks of planning going up in smoke."

He collapsed into an armchair with as much dignity as he could muster, trying to calm himself back down. The walk back to the hotel had been just as harrowing as the walk to Junior's, if not more so.

"To start with, I missed some paperwork. Neither of us are legal adults," Artemis sighed.

"Not adult-" Holly sputtered. "I'm eighty five!"

"You don't look a day over seventeen. I'm told that's a compliment."

"You're not an elf." Holly huffed.

"Regardless, we're considered orphans." Artemis explained. "Essentially, we were expected to find a foster home or file for independence. Once our paperwork is in order we'll be able to do anything that any adult can do."  
"Like what..." Holly probed, not liking where this was going.

"Like owning real estate," he spat. "Our contractors and our realtors are having a heated discussion over who gets to keep the newly renovated property."

_Three men in suits gathered around a conference room. Artemis and those he had employed, a realtor and a contractor. He was furious, finding himself on the wrong side of a scheme._

" _So you see, Mr. Fowl, the paperwork is perfectly out of order," The realtor said through a smile that had seen more bleach than a laundromat. "Without a legal guardian, the contract is null and void. The locks have been changed, and our office will retain ownership."_

_The contractor chuckled darkly, the smirk of a gambler laying down a winning hand._

" _Now see, that's where you're wrong. See, me and my boys have squatter's rights. Long as one of us sticks around for a year, it's ours... and we're already drawing lots for who gets to hang out in the swanky penthouse first." He turned to Artemis as the realtor sputtered. "You've got good taste, kid. I'll give you that."_

" _And when can I expect to have my investment refunded?" Artemis growled, momentarily forgetting the absence of a six foot Eurasian._

" _Put the moon back together," the contractor chuckled. "Then we'll talk."_

" _You'll be hearing from my attorney!" Spat the realtor, his genial demeanor gone._

" _And mine-" Artemis snapped. The realtor rounded on him, cutting him off before he could continue._

" _Go ahead," he growled. "Pyrite told us how much you've swindled out of him, and we've been keeping a better eye on your spending than you have. You'll run out of money before this even crosses a judge's desk."_

" _Get lost, kid," said the contractor. "The grown-ups are talking."_

" _I hope you remember this day, gentlemen." Artemis said as he stood, fixing them both in his mismatched gaze. "Because you're going to regret it for the rest of your lives." He turned to complete his graceful exit... and didn't get three steps._

" _Is that so?" The realtor had evidently reached the end of his patience._

_Shortly thereafter, Artemis Fowl II was thrown from the office, skidding across the pavement like a deflated football as the door slammed behind him._

"D'arvit," It was all Holly could think to say. "Maybe we can just get jobs? Try for a regular apartment?"

"Oh we already _have_ a job," Artemis said, unable to keep bitterness out of his voice. "I have to prove I'm not a police officer to Mr. Xiong. He implied that failure would be... unhealthy for both of us."

"What's his problem?" Holly asked.

"You were seen," Artemis paused. "And more importantly _photographed_ , associating with the same officer that arrested his men after the Gunhaus debacle."

"Oh. Right..." Holly sighed, falling silent as her gaze fell to the drink in her hand. Her wings drooped, and she crossed her legs uncomfortably. Guilt was written across her face.

"Nothing to be done but move forward," Artemis said, unwilling to add insult to injury..

"So what's he having you do?" She asked. "Do we need to swindle another casino?"

"No, he wants something a bit more personal. You recall the huntress from the club?"

"The rookie with the blonde hair?" She asked. Artemis nodded.

"She owns a rather distinctive motorcycle," Artemis explained. "We have until Friday to acquire it."

"You mean steal it." Holly sighed.

"Grand Theft Auto," he sighed. "The Mockingjay job was not technically illegal, as I merely played a man for a fool. He needs to know that we're not affiliated with the police."

"Fair enough, I suppose-" Holly stopped. "Wait, ' _we!?'_ I don't think so, mud boy. Lower Elements _Police_ in case you've forgotten!"

"There's no LEP here, Holly!" snapped Artemis finally. "You were never an officer here, neither of us ever existed!" The boy heaved an exasperated sigh as he leaned back into the chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Holly, please. You're smarter than this."

Holly retrieved her mug, staring into the black, steaming depths. Sure she played fast and loose with the rules, but she was a police officer! To turn to a life of crime seemed so horribly wrong.

' _What would Root think?'_

The thought burned in her mind as she mulled over what was being asked of her.

"Artemis, I can't help you with this," she sighed as she slumped into the couch cushions. "I won't stop you, but you're on your own."

"D'arvit."


	7. Chapter 7

Junior had provided him with information for the job before he'd left the club... but this job didn't sit well with the mud-boy. He'd been up the better part of the night thinking about it. His target was the blonde that Holly had gotten arrested, back at his club. The girl was a minor, living with her family on the nearby island of Patch. It wasn't practical to own motor vehicles, since the only way to get them back to mainland was via ferry or bullhead airship. The target was likely the only vehicle the family owned. And what a family to piss off... a hunter and his two daughters still in training, any of whom could kill him _by accident._ The theft was worthless, petty, and he wouldn't even be paid for it. Unbroken legs, that was to be his compensation. Junior hadn't even followed through on the information Artemis had paid for, so he'd be meeting the Huntress uncomfortably blind.

He had dressed inconspicuously. He wore a baggy grey hoodie from Signal that he hadn't touched since his first few days in Vale, and equally uncomfortable blue jeans. His shoes were new, mid range athletics. Neither the ratty sneakers he started with or the polished dress shoes he preferred would help him if he had to run. He'd taken a cab to the ferry, and once across the water he took a bus from the village. Patch was a place for those who wanted to get away from it all, and stay there. There were several stops on the route, ending at the local combat school. He got off at a stop near the woods, and began hiking up the unpaved trail that lead to the Xiao Long homestead. His pace was perhaps inadvisably casual... he'd been in the city so long that the trees on all sides stood out in beautiful contrast. He could almost pretend he was walking among the oak trees that surrounded the Manor... that he was home. As the log cabin came into view, he decided to rest a bit, in case he had to run. He sunk to the ground and leaned against a tree. Remnant was truly a beautiful place... not accounting for the Grimm, of course. The colors seemed more vibrant, though he wasn't sure if that was related to the eye transplant. He sighed, still daunted by his task. It grated against everything he ever learned from his father or his own myriad schemes. But it had to be done... he'd thought everything through, and this was simply the only way. He stood up in the shade of the tree, steeled himself, and resumed the walk to the cabin.

_The dark haired girl was twitching and convulsing on the floor, a screwdriver between her teeth to stop her from gnawing off her own tongue. Police lights swept over the building searching the windows for signs of their presence as some mysterious poison did its grisly work. Her newest friend looks her in the eyes, recognizing the symptoms. Is it too much to hope? Can this mysterious boy save her? Will she-_

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK._

"Eek!" jumped the hooded girl, nearly launching her paperback across the room in surprise. She takes a moment to slide a stray trading card into her novel as a bookmark, and another to still her heart as she descends the stairs to answer the door. The girl was curious since they weren't expecting anyone as far as she knew. When the door opened, there stood one of her classmates from Signal... though not one she'd ever met.

"Ruby Rose?" He seemed a bit young to be a friend of Yang and his tone sounded like he came from Atlas. Definitely not. Strangely enough, the boy was skinnier than Ruby was. He wore his raven black hair in a widow's peak, and his eyes were two different colors.

"Yes?" piped the girl, removing her hood. Ruby was visibly confused as she continued to look him up and down.

"Good afternoon," said the visitor. "Is Yang Xiao Long home? I have something important to discuss."

Ruby raised an eyebrow. "She's out in the shed. Come on..."

She closed the door behind her and led the way out to a shed that hung open. Both her sister and her father were working on the bike. Junior's file had a page on him: Taiyang Xiao Long. A retired hunter. Taiyang was holding up the front end of the motorcycle with one arm while Yang was bolting down a wheel with a socket wrench.

"Hey Ruby," greeted Yang. She noticed the strange boy next to her. "...and Ruby's friend?"

"I thought he was a friend of yours." Ruby looked at Artemis with suspicion, and she wasn't the only one.

"Before we proceed, I must inform you that my aura is still locked. If you intend to attack me, I preemptively surrender."

Taiyang set down the bike and crossed his arms. "Not a promising start, kid..." the huntsman said. "Say your piece."

"It's a very long story... I'll hit the high points, unless you want the details. A few days ago, Ms. Xiao Long was arrested for causing significant property damage to a nightclub. The reason the owner didn't press charges is because he runs a small criminal syndicate, and he didn't want the police sticking their noses in where they didn't belong."

Yang sneered. "And he sent you? For what?"

Artemis sighed, loosening his collar. "I managed to put myself in his good graces by giving first aid to someone who worked for him... Later a known friend of mine, the one you punched through a pillar-" Yang winced. "-was photographed enjoying coffee with a police officer of her acquaintance. I've been required to steal this _very distinctive_ motorcycle to prove that I'm not affiliated with the police."

Yang's eyes turned red, and while this did surprise Artemis, he wasn't dumb enough to stop talking as the wrench bent in her grip. Even as she began advancing on him.

"Naturally, I don't want to do this. I'm stuck choosing between two groups of people to put me in a body cast." Taiyang put a firm hand on Yang's shoulder, stopping her from moving any closer.  
"Yang," he warned.  
She took a deep breath as she closed her eyes. They were lilac again when she opened them.

"And can you prove this?" Taiyang asked.

Artemis shook his head. "No, I'd been frisked when the 'offer' was made." His sarcasm controlled, twisting the truth ever so slightly. "I didn't have my scroll to record the meeting. I do, however, have a plan..."

~o~o~

That evening, a very distinctive motorcycle pulled up in front of Junior's club. Melanie nodded in approval as Junior stepped up wearing a broad smile. "Well, well, well," He drawled. "If it isn't little Artemis Fowl. And I see you've brought me a present."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Junior." Artemis said, balancing his tone carefully. He dismounted the bike, smirking carefully. "A friend of mine loaned me this to arrive in style... well, more style than usual."

Junior rolled his eyes. Perfect. "Yeah yeah, whatever. Boys! Get this hunk of junk into the garage!" The bike purred merrily until Artemis pulled the key. The bike locked automatically with a distinct beep. Artemis, however, made no move to hand the keys over. He merely folded his arms in silent challenge. The crime boss was not impressed. "You trying to be cute? Keys. _Now."_

"Or what?" Artemis smiled, a dangerous vampiric smile... Junior took the bait, cracking his knuckles as he advanced. Junior drew his fist back for a haymaker, and Artemis leaned back just as Holly showed him. The impact still took him to the bricks behind him. His lip was split, but he hadn't broken any bones. He'd dropped the keys as he skidded back, and managed to remain on his feet. As his carbon copy goons approached him, Artemis bolted.

"Let him run," Junior smiled, holding up the keys to his prize. "We're done with him."

Artemis smiled as she sent Yang a message on his scroll, lamenting that her bike had been stolen. Just according to plan.

~o~o~

Yang Xiao Long was waiting for him, just a block down the road. She wore a Signal hoodie that fit much better than Artemis'. She hated having her hair bound up... but this was going to be worth it.

"You better not have scratched her," she said. It was bad enough letting him ride it around the corner... and worse teaching him _how_ to ride it around the corner. Seriously, what kind of sociopath never learns to ride a bike?

"I assure you, I didn't put a scratch on it." Artemis said, holding a napkin up to his lip. "And if Junior _does_ , I'll pay for it." They walked to a nearby cafe, ducking through an alley at one point. Artemis had plotted a route free of security cameras. There would be no accusations of entrapment... at least none that would stand up in court. As they walked, Yang was on her scroll, reporting her bike as stolen, after she'd loaned it to a friend.

They arrived at the cafe, a run-down joint with a passable excuse for coffee. Taiyang was waiting for them, and Holly had just arrived. It took a careful eye to spot her as she descended from the rooftops. Recon trained how to conserve magic. Even without her shield, she knew how to stay hidden. Ruby was... less than stealthy. Zipping into the cafe in a burst of rose petals and barely contained excitement.

"Eeeee! This is so cool!" she all but bounces on her heels. "It's like we're in a spy movie!"

"Can someone tell me what we're waiting for?" Yang growled.

"He's not going to do anything until business picks up," Artemis says. "At this hour the noise won't drown out power tools. He needs more people and louder music, and we need these timestamps to look right..." He checks his watch. "Alright, you text your dad while I set up the Hunter job. Holly, did you get the footage?"

She grinned. "I did, and it's hilarious... all the same, I'm glad we didn't need plan B."

Ruby smiled, just happy to be included. "Dad, you should have seen her! She was all low and crouched like a ninja..." Taiyang chuckled as she playacted the scene while humming a spy movie theme.

Artemis cleared his throat to interrupt the show. "Alright Mr. Xiao Long, the job's in place, and your daughter's just asked for your help.

The retired hunter tapped his scroll, searching by the agreed keywords. In a minute, Artemis' scroll chimed as the job was claimed.

"Alright, looks like everything's gone off without a hitch... timestamps are quick but not suspicious, police should be en route... so, three minutes to cue, Mr. Xiao Long."

"Kid, I gotta hand it to you, this was pretty slick." Taiyang said. "You ever consider hunting? There's still time to enroll at Signal for the next semester."

"Sir, I assure you, I'm not the heroic type," Artemis said.

"Oh I believe it, you got yourself in an interesting predicament... but you came out smelling like a rose. Hunters need brains just as much as brawn." Taiyang countered. Artemis opened his mouth to retort, but Taiyang continued. "And besides, even if you drop out, at least you'll learn how to throw a punch. There's more to training than being a hero."

Artemis' next words caught in his throat. He sagged slightly, for a moment, again feeling Butler's pressing absence. Taiyang was right... even if he got another bodyguard, he'd never find someone like Butler. Both his training and his trust ran too deep to ever replace. He sighed. "And I'm sure this is in no way an attempt to keep an eye on me?"

"Well, maybe a little," Taiyang chuckled. "But my point stands. You're not the type to take things lying down... sooner or later, you're going to cross paths with someone just like you."

Holly and Artemis shared a look, their various misadventures flowing through their minds. Spiro, Koboi, that disaster with Minerva... the man had a salient point.

"I'll... take it under advisement." Artemis said. "Twenty seconds, Mr. Xiao Long."

~o~o~

Taiyang strolled into the nightclub, completely ignoring the line. When Melanie tried to stop him, he held up his scroll with his Hunter License on display.  
"Just some quick business, won't be long."

She paled when she read his last name. Not that anyone could tell through the makeup. She shoved one of the goons onto line duty, and started texting her sister. This was going to go very bad, very quickly.

Taiyang took a seat at the bar, flagging down Junior's attention.

"Jotun please. And leave the bottle," he said with saccharine cheer.

Junior pulled down the cold bottle of dust-infused whiskey. Jotun was expensive stuff, infused with ice dust that rendered it a permanent high proof slushie. He poured a tall shot for the hunter.  
"Celebrating something?" Junior asked.

"Not really," Taiyang smirked as he knocked back the bracing shot. "Whoof! Strong stuff! Like putting out a campfire with a blizzard." He pulled out his scroll again, and queued up a very recent video file. "Just got a quick question for you... you know anything about this?"

He held up his scroll, and the file played from the moment that his fist knocked the Fowl brat clear off the screen. It showed him picking up the keys, and barking orders to his men. It ended as the camera followed one of his goons with the bike down the alley and into the garage where he took deliveries. The blood in Junior's veins ran colder with every second.

"Boys!" Junior choked. "Throw this asshole out!"

Taiyang smiled warmly, picking up the bottle of whiskey by the neck as one of Junior's men rushed him with a red machete... Taiyang was faster.

With an echo of breaking glass and crystallized dust, the bottle cracked and swelled as the goon went skidding across the dance floor. Yellow aura flowed across the shape growing from the bottle, until it was wrapped around a frozen claymore, serrated with broken glass. Junior reached under the counter for his bat, just as the sirens started closing in.

Suddenly, Junior was awake. His head was splitting with pain as he sat up in an unfamiliar bed... a cot. He looked around, the lights were dim, a digital clock displayed some time after one am, but he couldn't quite see through the bars... bars!? A toilet and a sink were to his right, no mirror. Moonlight streamed in through a window that a child couldn't squeeze through. And on the far side of a wall of bars, sitting smugly in a chair with his legs crossed, was Artemis Fowl.

"Good morning Mr. Xiong." He grinned, in spite of a split lip. "Let's discuss business."

Author's Note:  
Credit for 'Jotun Whiskey' goes to Hysterical Clerical Hijinks from the story Remnant's Reclaimer. It was an idea that was too good not to use _before_ I came up with a whole lot more significance for it. Don't worry, we'll pour another shot in much later chapters.


	8. Chapter 8

The club was nearly empty that evening. After what happened, nobody was surprised when it hadn't opened for business. The twin bartenders were seated at the bar, passing a bottle around as they tried to figure out what to do next. They turned as the door opened and glared. The kid was back. The kid that had ruined everything.

"Club's closed, babyface." Melanie scoffed. "Get lost."

"For tonight. But I intend to open for business by week's end," Artemis said, calmly walking to the bar as if he owned the place. "I'm also thinking of redecorating... I've always been fond of gold." The twins blinked at each other, confused.

"There's no way-" Militia began.

"Like, yeah, if you haven't noticed.. It hasn't been auctioned yet." concluded Melanie.

Artemis rubbed the bridge of his nose, muscling down his irritation. Working with their vapid mannerisms was going to be tiring.

"Correct. And it won't be... considering the documentation of its sale has been backdated, notarized, and placed exactly where one would expect them to be. As the club is not owned by a felon, it cannot be seized with the remainder of his assets."

"As if." scoffed Milita. "Junior would never actually sell this place to some skinny cop friending rat."

"Yeah, like, even if he did.. Why would he give it to a nobody instead of his own employees." added Melanie with the same attitude as her twin. They really were one in the same.

"Because he was smart enough not to choose spite. A trait I hope the two of you share, considering I've figured out your little ruse. "Little Miss" would be so disappointed if her daughters couldn't bounce back from so minor a setback, after all." The twins froze.

"I must commend you. I'm no easy man to fool. But the smoke has cleared and the mirrors have shattered." He stands behind the bar. "The daughters of Mistral's best information mogul, 'Little Miss' Malachite, set up in Vale to spread their mother's reach. A failing club owner uses a pyramid scheme to dupe a bunch of bored college dropouts into forming a reasonable facsimile of a crime syndicate. A little petty theft here, a few assaults there, and Junior's nameless little syndicate becomes the perfect mask to hide behind." He adjusts mirrored sunglasses, peering over them briefly. "Do I have that about right?" He keeps his expression carefully neutral. The question was rhetorical, of course. Between what Junior had told him and his own investigation, he already knew.

The twins looked at each other, having a swift exchange in glances. They nodded, crossing one leg over the other in unison.

"We're listening," Militia said. "What are you offering?"

"To make a clean legal break from Junior's actions, we'll run the club cleanly for a while. No crime of any kind until the law finds better things to monitor. The profits from the club will be invested in a number of small business ventures to establish a stable, legally clean cash flow. After that, we start recruiting for the syndicate and begin more legally ambiguous ventures. Under my leadership, you'll start seeing exponential growth."

"Work for you?" Melanie frowned, her eyebrow raising at his audacity. "Gross! As if!"

"Oh I'm quite serious. You two were quite lucky not to be arrested. Imagine if Junior had been conscious to accuse you before I spoke to him? One little plea bargain, and you'd be in the next cell right now." He left unsaid the threat that they still could be. "It was an admirable attempt, setting up your own venture rather than another strand of the Spiders' web. Of course being willing to start from the bottom again is laudable. I'm sure you had several backup plans." He smiled... and the twins felt their stomachs sink. They had nothing, and they knew that he knew it.

"After a few moments of stunned silence, one of them groaned, "Ugh! Fine. What are your terms?" Militia asked with crossed arms.

"You two answer to me, and only to me. For the most part, I'll leave running the club to the two of you. You've made it profitable so far, I see no reason to change that. You will both be faces and enforcers for the time being, until we expand. For the purposes of this new syndicate, I will remain anonymous. You will not reveal my identity under any circumstances, and you will be the only ones privy to that identity. While you will be responsible for running things day to day, I'll keep a close eye on things myself and focus on expansion on both sides of the board. I expect your earnings to double by the end of the quarter, and triple by the end of the fiscal year."

The twins stared. They certainly weren't expecting so favorable a deal. They exchange a look for a tense moment, speaking volumes through their eyes in a way that only the truly close can. Finally, they turned to him and nodded, "So like, what do we call you..." Melanie hissed through gritted teeth. "Boss?"

Artemis picked up a bottle of wine, pouring a glass for each of them. "Midas," he said, toasting the new partnership. "May all we touch turn to gold."

~o~o~

With the twins at his side, Artemis set to work on putting his world back in order. He backdated the necessary paperwork. He sifted through poorly protected logs, and erased all evidence that either the realtor or the contractors had queried his credentials at all. He even forced their scrolls to download corrupted software updates, bricking them and any data on them. They could never prove they'd done their homework. Under a formal threat of lawsuit, and an informal threat of assault, they folded. Artemis contented himself with a partial refund. The sales were at cost, no losses for anyone, but they certainly didn't make any profit. In spite of their business practices, they'd done good work according to the inspectors Artemis had hired. He hadn't wanted any surprises of course. After changing the locks for good measure, and hiring a cleaning crew to empty out and auction off the office spaces below, Artemis and Holly spent a relaxing evening in a stately new penthouse.

It was almost bittersweet, finally checking out of the hotel for the last time. They had been there long enough to know some of the staff by name, and the continental breakfast for their last morning had just so happened to have all their favorites, and a fresh pot of coffee. Still, they had a home now. Once more, they slung their belongings over their backs, and a waiting cab took them to the building they would soon call home. Even from the ground floor, it looked new and fresh. Artemis had paid to have the windows clean, and the graffiti was painted over. Scanning their scrolls let them into the building, though the encryption was Artemis' own code. The elevator demanded a passcode via a keypad before it carried them up the many empty floors. It was clean, but hadn't been renovated yet. That would come later, with the rest of the building.

It was an eclectic place, clearly built to the tastes of two people. Holly had designed the kitchen, given that she actually knew how to cook. It was furnished with stainless steel fixtures, stone tile, and marble countertops beneath cavernous cabinets. A small panel was slid aside on the wall, showing that all the reservoirs were filled with dust and ready to be used. The utilitarian kitchen smoothly gave way to the living room Artemis had devised. Hardwood floors and Atlesian wallpaper with expensive wooden furniture, though Holly had put her foot down when Artemis had suggested leather. Wisely, he had opted for microfiber. There was a surround sound system and a holovideo projector neatly nestled behind the crown molding, allowing a faux fireplace and an expensive Vacuan rug to dominate the room. The far wall offered a view into Holly's atrium, a verdant artificial garden. It had its own lawn, a cobblestone water feature, and a climbing wall draped with the beginning cuttings of a creeping vine. The wall to ceiling windows were bordered with colorful flowers; marigolds, pansies, and snapdragons. A brand new set of exercise equipment stood off in a corner, almost as an afterthought, next to the door from her bedroom. She kept very little in there. Artemis' blueprints had allowed space for a walk-in closet and a bathroom with a spacious soaking tub, but those had been discarded rather swiftly. She chose rather spartan quarters: A closet, a bed, a desk that folded into the wall, and a utilitarian bathroom. All the freed space had made her atrium all the larger... a bright spark of nature in the middle of the city.

On the other side of the house, past the kitchen, Artemis kept his chambers. The first room on the left was a workshop, bordering on a laboratory. A one man R&D division. It was utilitarian, clean, and organized. There was a wall of tools that ranged from wrenches and screwdrivers to expensive Atlesian hard-light multitools, a desk with lamps and lenses on arms, and an industrial quality 3-D printer that had been surprisingly easy to find given the state of Remnant's technology. Apparently hunters were fond of customized gear. The place was immaculate in a way that Artemis knew wouldn't last past its first project. The first door on the right was Artemis's study. Like the rest of his rooms, it was bedecked in hardwood and crown molding. A large wooden desk, well carved, stood before a jet black office chair. There were bookshelves on two of the walls, still woefully empty for now. One wall had a cabinet with an expensive crystal liquor set, though the decanters only held water. It was traditional, something that reminded him of his father's study. The desk had space for a top of the line computer, though Artemis would be building his own. Beneath a sliding surface was a physical keyboard, a projection monitor, and an inlay to which a scroll could be docked.

Artemis's bedroom was opulent, as he was accustomed to. It wasn't a perfect match to his bedroom back in Ireland, but it was very comfortable. He had a king sized bed with silk sheets imported from Menagerie... spider silk, from the designer's own spinnerets. His bathroom was similarly opulent, with brass polished brass fittings, clean white ceramic, and marble countertops. His furniture, from his bed frame to his wardrobe, was all in carved hardwood. They were new, but carved in an old Mantle style that was comfortably similar to the antique furniture his parents had been so fond of.

They ordered in for dinner that night, as the cupboards were still bare. There was a noodle place nearby, 'A Simple Wok'. Despite the inexpensive fare, it had grown on Artemis during his rise to power. Holly hadn't needed to of course. She'd been a beat cop, she'd settled for worse. The noodles were thick and firm. Artemis compared them to udon, and Holly swore they were more like a dwarven dish that she'd lost her taste for when she'd complained about a bug in the bowl and had been told that it was supposed to be there. They ate their noodles in comfortable silence, sitting on stools by the marble nook as twilight began to stain the sky.

"So," Holly began. "Tonight's the night. Do we have everything we need?"

"As much as we can," Artemis shook his head, setting down his chopsticks for a moment. "I wasn't able to find anything on Ms. Harvest, even after the twins honored what I paid for." The huntress' records had made him uneasy. They'd either been thoroughly scrubbed, or they'd been fabricated. Artemis had tried to find further information himself, but every digital lead had smoothly led to something that couldn't be confirmed, something that wasn't quite right... she was an island of dead ends in a sea of poorly protected information. She was also the only Huntress to take the offer in weeks. There was no telling how long they'd have to wait if they didn't move forward.

The bowls of noodles slowly depleted as they went over the plans in detail, taking solace in their preparation to ease their nerves somewhat. Though they wanted to retire, to sink into brand new beds that they could finally call their own... they had one last task first. Artemis filled thermos flasks with strong, black coffee. Holly loaded rounds just as dark into her magazines, steel tipped gravity rounds, and ran through the usual checks on her Neutrino. She'd been damned certain to get her aim back with it, despite how tiny it felt in her mud-girl's fingers. It felt strange, going into a mission like this without magic. Yet, she could still feel it thrumming under her skin, just out of reach. They'd decided against unlocking their auras... as far as they could find, it was irreversible, and they didn't want to find out the hard way if it would stop the Ritual from working.

They both donned minimal armor plating. Weight was key, between Artemis's begrudging frailty and Holly's avian advantage. It was just light enough not to slow them down, but thick enough that the Grimm would have to work to end them. Enough, hopefully, to buy the huntress time if the worst happened.

The shattered moon loomed down over them, as full as it ever could be, as a taxi ferried them through the city. The odd airships of Remnant, 'bullheads' never really stopped as they neared the airport, swarming lazily around the airport like moths around a lantern. Soon, one of those crafts would carry them forward... for better, or for worse.

~o~o~

Author's Note: Thanks to my amazing beta for the twins' dialogue. artyclues55 on Twitter! Without her, this whole fic wouldn't be possible.


	9. Chapter 9

Artemis was anxious about the huntress he'd hired. When he'd gotten the twins on his side, they were happy to tell him everything they'd found about her. Unfortunately, this amounted to her name and the picture on her Hunter license. Similarly to himself and Holly, she'd seemingly come out of nowhere. Rather than being fabricated, the date stamps on her records were outright missing, so one couldn't even tell how long her records had been on file. He agreed with the twins' assessment: Amber's records had been scrubbed, and thoroughly. Whether it was a case of stolen identity or witness protection was anyone's guess. But they simply didn't have the time to back out now. The mission was that night, so Artemis and Holly had geared up. Holly had her Neutrino on one hip and her Fractal Classic on the other. Her magazines were loaded with the hardest hitting rounds she could find, steel cored rounds propelled by gravity dust. They cost a small fortune, but their stopping power would make the most of Holly's impeccable aim.

Artemis had fixed his pilfered knife on his hip, taking little comfort in the vestigial blade. He was beginning to give real consideration to Taiyang's suggestion. Even with Holly at his side, Butler's absence was a constant weight at the back of his mind. A constant reminder that he wasn't safe, and never would be.

They were to meet their huntress at the airport terminal, where their airship or 'bullhead' would be waiting for them. She was dressed in clothes that were likely hard-wearing, but not even close to protective. It was really more of a costume than anything else, and it brought to mind the human comic books that got smuggled down from the surface sometimes, only to be rounded up as contraband by the LEP. She had a slightly darker complexion than Holly, and kept her brown hair short. She wore a skirt, with leggings and thigh high boots, and combination of blouse and leather jerkin that still somehow managed to have a cleavage window. What actual armor she wore, a pauldron and an armguard, were thin works of brass that could only be decorative. Holly frowned, hoping that her attire wasn't any indication of her abilities.

Sitting on a bench at the airport terminal, Amber wasn't any happier about her mysterious employer. Not only had he seemingly appeared out of nowhere just over a month ago, his records were just as blank as her own. And the info broker she'd paid for that information had been arrested days after she'd seen him... after an altercation with the mysterious Artemis Fowl. Nevertheless, she wasn't just a Huntress. They weren't even going that far from the city. There was absolutely no reason to be uneasy and yet... she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

"Miss Harvest, I presume?" The voice came up behind her. His accent was strange, a brogue she couldn't quite place. It wasn't Atlesian. Mantle, perhaps? She turned to face her employer. A teenager, or rather two of them. It appears he'd brought his own muscle, a skinny girl with chestnut skin and pistols on her hips. Their eyes were striking, their mismatched gazes mirrored each other. On the girl they were sharp, appraising, and alert but on the boy, they had a dangerous, predatory glint.

"Yes. You're Mr. Fowl?" Amber pretended to ask. "And Miss...?"

"Holly Short," she supplied, after a moment of hesitation. She still wasn't used to her missing rank.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," Artemis said. "Are you ready to depart?"

Amber nodded, following them onto the ship. The pilot looked up, closing an issue of 'X-Ray and Vav' before requesting permission to take off. Practically as soon as the three sat down, they were off.

"Just a few ground rules," Amber began. "You've hired me to protect you, and in order to do that you need to be willing to follow orders." Artemis raised an eyebrow as she continued. "If I tell you to take cover, you take cover. If I tell you to hit the ground, hit the ground. If I tell you to run while I hold off the Grimm, you don't try to wait for me. Do you understand?" She spoke in no uncertain terms. Holly nodded, and elbowed Artemis to respond.

"Understood," he nodded. Not unreasonable demands from a bodyguard.

"Are the both of you armed?" Amber asked, eyeing Holly's guns.

"I am," Holly nodded. "SDC Pistol, Steel jacket, gravity propellant. I also have a stun gun that'll be more useful on wildlife."

"I have a knife, but it's more of a tool than a weapon." Artemis noted. "There's a reason I hired you, Miss Harvest."

"Alright," Amber nodded, picking up her staff. Each end was capped in an uncut crystal of dust, red on one end and white on the other. "I'll take point and Holly can bring up the rear."

The remaining ride was tense and quiet, though thankfully not very long. Twenty kilometers simply didn't mean that much to a bullhead. It was scarcely ten minutes at a leisurely pace. Once the pilot touched down, she opened up her comic book and leaned back in her seat to await her employers return.

The twilight was fading as Amber led them through the forest. Artemis gave directions, reading a map on his scroll. Being out in the night air was soothing, though Holly still kept her wits about her. She kept her mind on the mission, if only to keep herself from thinking of home. This was the first real step they'd taken toward going back to their own world. Holly wanted to be excited, but it was still so daunting. They were working from a hypothesis, with no real idea that the ritual would even work. And even if it does, where would they go from there?

The moon was high in the sky when they reached the river, following its curves. Artemis was paying special attention to how thick each trunk was. Luckily, the Book had made it to Remnant with Holly's gear. Artemis had pored over it, and sifted through the old, flowery Gnommish to work out how old the tree had to be. Holly had spent just as much time leafing through it, if not more. She hadn't read it that closely since she was a little girl. The Book held history, lore, and the magic that any fairy could do, but it simply couldn't hold the complex spellwork that warlocks worked with. Only the very basics of warlock magic was covered... Artemis would somehow have to work out the Hybras spell from memory or from scratch. They might remain on Remnant for a long time.

"This will do," voiced Artemis, pulling Holly out of her thoughts. It was an impressive tree, three feet wide at the base and a canopy wider than a house. Artemis knelt on the ground, turning on the light on his scroll. In short order, he'd found their prize. Acorns. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and produced a vial. Several acorns were carefully stowed away, then he handed another vial to Holly. "Would you kindly pick a few fresh ones from the branches? I don't want to take any chances."

Holly nodded, her wings vaulting lifting her smoothly into the canopy. The gentle buzz filled the air and rustled the leaves in the tree as she darted from branch to branch, shining a light and searching for a prize. It was on this rare occasion that she lamented that she hadn't been one of the many faunus gifted with superior night vision, but then that wouldn't have made sense for a hummingbird.

Amber scanned the dark as Holly looked for the acorns. Amber was suddenly very curious as to why this couldn't be done in the daytime, but she remained silent and carefully wary. The bright lights of the scrolls were playing hell with her vision, and she kept having to dismiss the rustling leaves behind her as the wind of Holly's wings. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, and she was far too experienced to ignore it.

"Do you have what you need?" pressed Amber.

Holly landed, plugging her vial as she landed. "We do now."

Amber nodded, "Good. We need to-" She stopped mid sentence, her instincts flaring. Holly's wings stopped, but leaves still rustled, and from the wrong angle. There was something in the bushes, cloaked by the black night. She took no chances, casting flames from the red crystal on her staff in a wide arc over their heads. " _COVER! NOW!"_

Artemis and Holly dove for the relative safety of the tree's base, a wooden barrier between them and the black shape that just lunged at the huntress from the underbrush. Artemis braved a glance and saw a black bear with bony spines jutting from its back. An Ursa, the firelight behind it casting a menacing silhouette. A coil of involuntary fear gripped him for a moment before he forced himself calm again. He needn't have worried as his hired hand spun her staff as she sidestepped the beast, swinging it in a wide arc. The white crystal glowed and a wall of wind sent it skittering across the ground like a tumbleweed until it smashed into another oak with a splintering crack. The Grimm didn't have time to move before she brought the red crystal down like an axe, sending a guillotine of flame searing across the clearing. The tree shook with the impact, as the Ursa was _burned_ through by the somehow solid blaze. A massive gash from its shoulder to its belly was pouring black smoke, the fallen Grimm lit by the smoldering branches above.

Amber casually snapped off a burning branch and handed it to Artemis. "If a Grimm gets close, go for the eyes. Keep your distance until I can handle it. Are we done here?"

Artemis nodded, clenching his hand around the makeshift torch. "Yes. Back to the ship."

They marched quickly, but Artemis and Holly were both uneasy. It seemed like any time they glanced into the darkness, they saw red glints at the corners of their eyes. The three of them knew they were being watched, but whatever was doing the watching was beyond the torchlight. Artemis had one hand on his scroll, carefully watching the map. They soon left the river behind, wandering in the dark back to the ship.

Artemis heard a twig snap, close. Far too close. "Stop... do you hear that?"

They heard nothing as they cast their eyes around, neither their scrolls or the torch providing sufficient light to pierce the darkness. There was a feeling of oppression in the air. It was beyond feeling like they were being watched. They felt like they were being _hunted._ They were about to move again when a terrible noise tore through their frayed nerves. A howl, mere yards away, their lights moving as one to fall on a Beowolf for the instant Holly needed to line up a shot. With an echoing bang, Holly cracked open it's masked skull. It had only begun to sublimate when the howling began again. The canid lament came from all around them, a dreadful chorus of promised doom.

" _RUN!"_ Amber yelled, casting flames at the trees around them in a circle. The advancing Beowolves were scorched, but not deterred. They gave relentless chase. Holly's wings picked her up, and she turned around. Flying backward she lined up shot after shot, her Fractal Classic ending Grimm one by one. She emptied a magazine without making a real dent in the pack, and resumed running as she reloaded. For once, she missed the wings she used to have to strap on. Even an old petrol-driven model would be a smog spewing godsend.

"No... No! You coward!" Artemis yelled. Holly and Amber looked ahead, hearts sinking, as their ship took off without them. "Holly, get to the clearing and plant them! It should be just far enough!"

Reluctantly, Holly allowed her wings to pick her up again. She threw herself forward, barely off the ground as she put distance between herself and her friends. ' _I just need a few sparks...'_ None of her powers would help against the Grimm. They didn't have minds to control, they didn't need to see her to find her, and the gift of tongues wasn't even worth considering. What they were really going to need was _healing_. There was only one huntress, and the Grimm were uncountable in the darkness. The fear and adrenaline of combat was only going to summon more. The clearing opened up in front of her, bright flashes of fire illuminating the forest behind her as she skidded to her feet and dropped to her knees. She clawed into the soil tearing up grass by the roots with her fingernails until she clawed up a fistful of dark soil. She ripped the stopper from the vial, and dumped the tiny nuts into her hands. She glanced over her shoulder, watching as Amber stopped to cleave through a pair of pouncing hounds. Her follow-through slowed the pack behind them for an instant with a gust of hurricane force before she was off again, a few long strides catching her up to Artemis.

Holly wasted no more time. She dropped one of the acorns into the hole, and slammed the fistful of earth into place behind it. "I return you to the earth," she breathed. "And claim the gift that is my right." She braced herself, calling out to the power. She waited. The Beowolves grew louder. She waited. The crackle of the firelight grew closer. She waited. Her heart began to sink, nothing was happening. Holly tried again, enunciating in clear, desperate Gnommish. _["I return you to the earth, and claim the gift that is my right!"]_ The magic already beneath her skin strained, almost trying to reach down into the soil and _pull_ in her desperation. Nothing happened. Nothing but howling.

Artemis didn't have the luxury of faltering, and his heart was too busy pounding to sink. He swore he'd start exercising after this. Humans were _not_ sitting smugly atop the food chain in this world. He watched Holly, kneeling in the grass for nearly a full minute as they caught up to her all but shouting the ancient spell. She slowly stood, her head hanging briefly before taking what time she had to check her weapons.

More Grimm arrived. Silent in their approach, but deafening in their arrival. There were more than Beowolves flowing from the treeline. The light of the burning forest fell upon massive Ursas and diminutive, burrowing Creeps, their numbers uncountable in the poor light. And yet more kept coming, summoned to the dinner bell of the aching, homesick heart. There was a moment of near silence. No sound save for low growls and the crackling from the forest. A Beowolf lunged, Holly's gun cracked, and the battle began. Amber was a force of nature, fighting with waves of flame and walls of wind. Holly ascended, staying skyward for as long as she could. Her aim was surgical, smiting any Grimm that got too close to Artemis or Amber while their back was turned.

Artemis' strategic mind was dedicated solely to finding gaps to slip through. "Hour per second, count of forty," He muttered without thought. "Thirty minutes per second, count of eighteen. Backward, one minute per second, count of two." His meager armor saved his life time after time, turning glancing blows as he dove between Ursas and Beowolves. Holly noted that once or twice, he even managed to make one Grimm kill another, though whether that was intended or lucky was anyone's guess.

~o~o~

The tide of battle slowly eroded both sides, the Grimm's numbers thinning as their own strength faltered. Holly's chest was heaving as she fought to stay in the air, her last magazine long since emptied. Her Neutrino only managed to stun the Grimm, their black forms twitching and convulsing on the ground for a few seconds. Amber was focused on the ones still fighting, so Artemis capitalized on what opportunities he could, plunging his knife or his torch into scarlet eyes whenever one fell close enough.

~o~o~

Eventually, Holly's vision began to swim, and her aching wings could hold her up no longer. She didn't quite manage a glide, coming down harder than she meant to. She skidded to a stop with her back against a tree. A snarling Beowolf pounced at her... her shot went wide. She shut her eyes, bracing for the end.

She heard the terrible sound of teeth on bone yet she felt no pain. She opened her eyes, and her breath caught. Artemis had taken the blow, bracing his legs to stop the massive creature's impact. Its jaws clamped over Artemis' shoulder, already gushing blood. It stilled, black smoke sublimating from the knife in it's eye. The creature went limp, its weight taking Artemis to the ground with a brutal tearing noise.

The surge of adrenaline forced Holly to her feet, scanning for targets that would stop her from helping Artemis. All she saw was Amber sprinting toward them. Holly dropped her gun and poured her strength into prying the dead Grimm off Artemis. "Arty! Artemis, say something!" She said, trying to pry the lupine jaw off his shoulder.

"Did it work?" Artemis hissed through grit teeth as the Grimm was rolled away.

Holly's heart sank. "No... no it didn't work. Artemis, I'm so sorry."

Amber finally caught up to them, panting. "Did _what_ work?"

"No time!" Holly said. "We have to stop the bleeding." For once, her training failed her. Recon officers were expected to be running hot, or near as they could manage. Their first aid began and ended with 'clean the wound and apply magic.' She could stop him from getting an infection, but without magic she couldn't save him.

Amber took over, pulling the knife from the Beowolf's eye. She wiped it on her clothing to remove the fading ichor, then began cutting away Artemis's clothes. "The armor was smart thinking... it doesn't look like the teeth got into your organs, but these are deep." She eyed the pooling blood, watching it spread across Artemis' shirt far too quickly. She took his pulse to confirm. "You're... you're bleeding out." Amber said, solemn as the grave. Holly inhaled sharply, her heart clenching.

Artemis couldn't help but chuckle, wincing as Amber put pressure on his wounds. "A coin well spent."

"Don't you dare joke about that," Holly spat. "What about aura? If you unlock it, can't that heal him?"

Amber hesitated, "I don't know... he's- he's losing so much blood. I don't know if he'll survive."

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "You're a poor liar, but if you wanted me dead- _Gah!-_ you could have... could have..." He trailed off, his mismatched eyes closing.

Holly's fingers were on his neck in seconds. "His pulse is fading. You have to do it now."

Amber sputtered. "Holly I don't know what will-"

"Please!" Holly begged, unable to stop the tears. "Can't you try?" After all they'd been through, Holly couldn't bear to watch him die. Not here. Her jumpsuit could fall to tatters. Her Neutrino could wear out. Even the book could burn for all she cared. None of it mattered. Artemis was the only person in this world who could ever understand her. He wasn't just her only hope of going home, he was her only hope of staying sane. Without him she'd be truly, achingly alone. "...Please. He's all I have left."

For a few torturous moments, Holly thought she'd refuse. She hung her head, staring at Amber's hands and the cascade of blood ebbing over them. A soft, warm glow began to shine over the red. A bright golden color cloaked her, like yellow leaves in the fall, spread from Amber's hands and enveloped the both of them. Amber began to recite, and Holly could feel the power in her words as the glow spread to her friend's still form.

" _The night is dark and stormy, and the cold winds cut us deep._

_The lonely, cold and weary, in their solitude they weep._

_But us that join together, brace our backs against the storm._

_Become for all a shelter, candles burning, safe and warm_

_Ignite your soul dear brother, share the burden, take the leap._

_As basking by our candles, sons and daughters safely sleep."_

As the poem continued, the color changed. She couldn't rely on Artemis to focus his power. She had to do the work for both of them. Artemis began to glow with his own light, a paler tone, like candles flickering across polished gold. Amber poured aura into the boy, his wounds beginning to glow and knit. The power kept flowing, threatening to deplete her completely. The boy's reserves were cavernous compared to her own, a great thirsting void suddenly set ablaze with golden light. His breath began to strengthen, his bleeding stopped. His veins glowed as new blood flowed.

With a gasp, Artemis awoke looking into those same brown eyes. "Ah." said Artemis, almost weakly, pleasantly surprised to wake up again. "So that's what that feels li-." He feels himself suddenly pulled into a hug. "Holly!?"

"Just... just let me have this, mud-boy." She said, her heart and mind finally easing from the sheer relief. Artemis returned the embrace, bracing himself on one hand while he wrapped the other under Holly's wings.

It was a warm silence for a while... nothing but the breeze in the forest and the crackling flames. The Grimm were fading to shapeless mounds. The forest was at peace. It was Amber that broke the silence.

"Think your pilot would come back if you called him? You're in no shape to hike that far." Amber said.

"Hard to say," Artemis raised an eyebrow. "I'm well enough to walk at any rate." His wounds were still closing, though the bleeding had stopped.

Amber shook her head. "After healing an injury like that, on top of the fatigue? I give you an hour or two before you drop. You need food and sleep, and you need it soon."

Artemis nodded, walking a short distance away to call the pilot.

"Hello, is this the pilot without a spine? Yes, we're alive. No thanks to you... Liability!? I don't give a damn about liability, you left us for dead! If you're not touching down in the next fifteen minutes-" He glared, fuming at his scroll for a moment. Then he dialed another number.  
"Hello, Melanie? ... I'm sorry Militia... I need a bullhead... Yes, I'll send you the coordinates. Have the ship pick us up... I'm also going to send you a name. Collect a refund, if you'd be so kind... Yes, thank you."

"I take it we're in for a wait?" Holly sighed.

"Half an hour at the earliest," Artemis said, already calculating how long it would take to afford a Bullhead.

"Since we have the time," Amber began, stopping to lean against a tree. "What was all this for?" She gestured toward the smoking mounds. "This was a huge risk to plant a tree."

"I suspect it was an equally large one to unlock my Aura," Artemis stated. "For which I'm quite grateful. By the state of my clothes, I doubt I'd have survived if you hadn't."

"You're welcome." replied Amber. "Nice try but don't change the subje-" The huntress' body felt heavy even from the support of the tree, unlocking his aura took a great deal out of her and she was clearly still disoriented from the drain.

"Are you alright?" Holly asked, sympathetically. "Do we need to be worried?"

"No, I'm fine." Amber stopped herself and slowly sat down on the soft grass just below. "Look, the least you two could do to make up for all of this is to tell me the _real_ reason why we're here." She says, narrowing her eyes towards the both of them. "What exactly didn't work?"

Artemis and Holly shared a look. They both knew the risks of the truth. It strained belief to the breaking point. Their credibility could be destroyed, branded as terrible liars. They could find themselves incarcerated in a mental facility, thought of insane for the sheer lunacy of their story. If the wrong person believed them, they may even end up on a dissection table.

["I think it's time,"] Holly said, switching to Gnommish. ["This was never going to stay secret forever."]

Artemis sighed, nodding in reluctant agreement. Better to test the waters with Amber. With her records scrubbed, she clearly had secrets of her own to keep. ["I hope you're right."] He turned to Amber, bewildered at the sudden shift in language.

"Before we answer, Miss Harvest, we have a very important question." Artemis said, his tone deadly serious. "Do you believe in fairy tales?"


	10. Plus One

A young man yawned, blinking bleary eyes in the rising sun. Sleeping in the woods isn’t for everyone, even if all the leaves were a lovely shade of red. Most people would be rather put off by the whole experience. No indoor plumbing, no air conditioning, no electric light. There weren’t even the barest hint of camping essentials! No freeze dried food, no tent, no bug repellent, not even a single marshmallow to toast over an evening fire. By any modern, sensible standard of living, the situation was quite intolerable even without considering the constant threat of Grimm. Fortunately, the young man lacked any such perspective about how dire his situation was. As far as he was concerned, he was in paradise.

Not that it had always been easy. When he first woke up in the woods, the youth didn’t know what even he was. He’d woken up considerably taller than he could remember. When he stood up that first morning, he’d lost his balance at once and fallen flat on his face. By his best guess, he was three or four times as tall as he used to be. He certainly wasn’t an imp anymore. At first he thought he’d warped, that he’d finally become a demon. But that didn’t feel quite right. His magic was still there, flowing beneath his skin. Warping would have snuffed that out for good. And besides, warping tended to result in a lot of unpleasant slime that he’d just as soon avoid. If anything, he was curiously human! Almost at least. His skin had the same soft, squishy quality that humans had, but he hadn’t lost the runes and symbols that decorated his skin. His horns had changed, growing long and textured. He would have to find a still pond to get a good look at his new face, but he imagined he cut a very strapping profile.

The not-quite imp, who went by the not-quite name of No1, was rather enjoying this new world he’d found himself in. As far as No1 knew, demons had never particularly cared for modern conveniences. A crossbow was about as far as they were willing to learn, and they certainly weren’t going to bother hunting with them. So he had plenty of experience with foraging and hunting to feed himself. Thankfully, he hadn’t even needed to hunt. He’d stumbled on a freshly dead bear, barely scavenged at all. Though he wondered why something had gone to the trouble of killing it without sticking around to eat it, he wasn’t about to complain. So he’d set up camp nearby, knapped himself a stone knife, and got a cookfire going. He’d felt quite guilty about cutting up the beast, but at least he hadn’t had to kill it.

No1’s first few days in the woods would have impressed huntsmen and survivalists with sheer ingenuity... but for him, it was Tuesday. Or at least it would be, if demons ever bothered with calendars. Self sufficiency was expected in Hybras, even of the lowliest imp (which he was). Hybras had been an island, floating adrift outside of time. The home of the demons, a volcanic wilderness trapped in perpetual dusk. It had a thriving ecosystem, fresh water, rabbits and boars aplenty, and plenty of easily sharpened obsidian. It didn’t even have nighttime. If you couldn’t survive there with all that at your disposal, that was your problem.

He made good time hiking through the forest, clad in an ash-tanned fur and carrying his provisions over his shoulder in a still-green wicker basket. He was following an echoing horn that passed through the forest every day. Though the strange, red-leaved forest was paradise compared to his island home, he’d had a taste of modern life. Uncoupled from the magic that kept Hybras from falling back into the proper flow of time, he’d been treated to a very exciting jaunt through Earth. He’d gotten to see things like refrigerators, faucets, automobiles, and buildings that were simply too tall to be allowed. And he hadn’t gotten the chance to learn about much of it at all. Whatever that loud thing was, it was consistent and it was moving. He reasoned he could follow it, find his way to a proper human city. He already spoke English, more or less. It probably wouldn’t be that hard, assuming he didn’t get thrown off any more buildings.

He heard the machine approaching from off in the distance, that strange, shrieking hoot punctuated by percussion. It was much closer than it sounded yesterday. He smiled, picking up his pace as he cut through the morning fog. He was definitely close now, he could hear a steady mechanical sound between the horn’s blasting call... and a lot of very different sounds. He heard a snapping retort of the type he’d only heard once before. Gunfire, thankfully very far away. He hoped it didn’t have anything to do with the sound, but he’d be cautious.

It wasn’t ten minutes more before he finally found the wood and metal road. He didn’t quite know what it was called. The magic gift of tongues was gone, and there was certainly nothing like this in the old book from which demons learned English. Lady Heatherington Smythe’s Hedgerow was not nearly so important as the leader of the demons had claimed it to be. Largely thanks to his own gift of magic, Leon Abbot had convinced the demons that it was a vital human text filled with their secrets. He would read aloud choice bits like sermons, both to educate the demons in the English language and to hide its true nature as a poorly written novel. He shook his head, trying to restore his train of thought... right! A train! That’s what this was called! If he could jump onto it as it passed, it’d take him straight to the next city or town!

With some difficulty, as he wasn’t used to being any kind of ape, No1 climbed one of the many red trees. He climbed the tallest one he could find close to the forest, doing his best to ignore the ominous sounds that punctuated the train’s stead staccato. He didn’t know what weapon sounded like that, but judging by the light show he probably didn’t want to. He decided that it was worth climbing the tree at least. If he saw anything that looked dangerous, he simply wouldn’t jump. Within a few minutes, the massive machine finally trundled into view. With the shrill squeak of grinding metal, more than half of the train simply separated away and began to slow. What luck! They’re probably leaving anything dangerous behind.

~o~o~

A young woman took a deep breath, watching the train cars slow. For better or worse, it was over. She’d cut ties in a very literal sense, and she watched the rest of the train falling away with a sense of melancholy relief. She sat down on a crate, massaging her feline ears through the bow that hid them. She didn’t dare take it off. She was on a cargo train, owned by the Schnee Dust Company and hauling another half dozen cars full of dust and machines. If she was careful, she could make her way to the passenger cars undetected, and just blend into the crowd when they disembarked. If she was caught, passing for human could be the difference between getting arrested and... Her ears twitched suddenly beneath the bow, craning to hear something through the fabric. She turned to look and her jaw dropped. A faunus had just jumped out of a tree, leaping toward the train. There was no hiding his heritage, a pair of prominent horns nearly half a foot long. Time seemed to slow as adrenaline surged through her veins. ‘What!? It was just supposed to be Adam and I! Did they know I was leaving!? How!?’

Her desperate thoughts were cut off as the faunus hit the train, utterly failing to manage anything that could be called a landing. He bounced off the top of the next car, helpless against the oncoming wind. He bounced and tumbled across the floor of the flatbed car, skidding and sliding until he crashed into a pallet of crates bound down with netting.

“D’arvit!” the jumper hissed. A boy, worryingly young. “Twas less than graceful.” He tried to stand, and stumbled. His horns were caught in the netting. “Unhand me! Oh where has my knife gone?” Her heart stilling, the young woman approached the other faunus with practiced stealth. He was a teenager, if only just. Wiry, but not weak... and wearing what amounted to a toga made of dark, matted fur. The crushed remains of a wicker basket clung to his back, dripping what she could only hope was water. He seemed to find what he was looking for, and began to reach for something gray and broken. A shattered stone? The boy was stuck fast in the netting, and was resorting to half kneeling and stretching out one bare foot toward the sharp rocks. “Only a smidgen further...” the boy grumbled.

“Do you need help?” She asked before she could stop herself.

“Ah!” He yelped, losing his balance. With some difficulty, he rolled to more or less face her. “My lady knight, be that a blade at your shoulder?”

She stared at him for ten silent seconds, utterly baffled. “Uh, yes? Here, hold still.”

Drawing her weapon, a complex hybrid of katana and pistol, she collapsed it to a shorter form and hooked the blade carefully into the mesh. She cut carefully, untangling his horns without cutting enough of the webbing to send the packages off the train at the next bend. When he’d been freed, the young man stood up with a bright smile on his face. She was struck by his appearance. At first he looked eerily similar to the one she’d left behind, glaring at her from the rest of the train. He could be Adam’s brother, or perhaps his son... but no not quite. His horns were long and ridged, almost serrated. His hair was a darker red, his eyes were a striking orange, and he had freckles that made him look somehow even younger. Strange tattoos snaked from his chest all the way across his face, coiling around his torso and neck like a spiraling serpent of dark runes.  
“Many thanks, my lady knight!” The strange youth grinned. “Might I know the name of my savior?”

Ten more seconds of silence. “... Blake.” She finally managed. She couldn’t decide if he was concussed or trying to hit on her. “I’m sorry, I have to ask... why are you dressed like a caveman?”

“Ha! I am no neanderthal.” He smiled as he spoke, bright and sunny. “I was bare when I found a bear. Already dispatched, thankfully, but freshly so. Its hide was mostly unmarred, so I fashioned a crude garment. Hardly a gentleman’s frock, but a man must have his dignity.”

“So you were naked in the woods until you found a dead bear?” Blake asked, increasingly incredulous. “How long have you been out there?”

“I’m not quite certain. Less than a fortnight, but I don’t think by much.” He shrugged his basket off his shoulder and started rummaging around in what was left of it. He sighs, pulling out a shard of crude, grey ceramic. “Dash it all... most of my water jugs are broken. The smoked bear ought to be fine... plenty of nuts and dried berries... I could take it easy for a few more days. I’ll have to fashion a new knife though.”

Her befuddlement only grew with every word the boy spoke. “Did you have anything when you went into the forest?”

“Not so much as a stitch.” He shrugged. “Demons don’t wear clothes after all.”

Blake’s breath hitched. “Demon?”

“Well how many humans do you see with horns like these?” He chuckled.

Blake’s heart grew heavy at the implications. “What’s your name?”

“Oh I haven’t got one of those I’m afraid.” He shrugged. “I haven’t grown up yet. My betters called me Imp Number One.”

“Your betters- what- how?” Blake sputtered, horrified. He didn’t even have a name? Had this poor child escaped some kind of twisted cult? “Where are you from?”

“I hail from a distant island called Hybras,” he said, finally noticing Blake’s growing distress. “If you know of it, I would be most dumbfounded. Are you quite well Lady Blake?” Blake shook her head, knowing how far landlocked the forest was. The poor child had to have been living like this for months. Months trudging through the wilderness, living off the land, fighting off grimm with nothing but a sharpened rock. And yet, he didn’t seem bothered.

How bad was Hybras that he doesn’t even mind living like this? Blake shook her head, trying to dislodge the thought. “I’m fine... are you going to be alright when we get to Vale?”

“Oh is that where this train is going?” He smiled brightly. “Is it a city or a town?”

She had been determined to lie low until she got to Beacon, but she couldn’t make herself leave this child alone. It was amazing how cheerful he was with what he’d been through. But he couldn’t pass for human the way she could, not with his impressive heritage. She had to help him as much as she could.

“Alright... One,” It felt so wrong just calling him by a number. “It looks like you’re a little uninformed. Did you have other faunus with you at Hybras?”

“Other what?” he asked, as if he’d never heard the word. Blake’s eye began to twitch.

~o~o~

Thankfully, No1 was able to convince Blake that Hybras had been destroyed. He had tried to be honest at first, but found he didn’t have the words. Quite literally. He made a valiant effort to describe the island being lost in Limbo, and that it had disintegrated as it was finally dragged back into the normal flow of time in the midst of a paradox. But, sadly, Lady Heatherington Smythe’s Hedgerow just didn’t have the words for it. In fact he had a strong suspicion that the author would lack a sufficient vocabulary. He’d been in school longer than most imps, and even when it was read in brief sermons, the plot holes became rather glaring after a while. As far as Blake was concerned, Hybras had been sundered by some kind of geological disaster, which would have to be close enough for the time being.

Blake taught him patiently, informing him that he was something this world called a ‘faunus’ and that his horns were his ‘heritage’ and a great number of people would hate him for it. Though he thought this was a marked improvement from ‘everyone,’ he bit his tongue. Hybras had upset her enough.

“Your story is difficult to believe,” she advised. “You should avoid telling it. Being a faunus is hard enough without people thinking you’re crazy, or a liar. Just saying you’re from a village outside the cities will be enough. They can be pretty out of date, so it’ll explain a lot.”

“Lady knight, are you suggesting I become a liar so people don’t think I’m a liar?” he asked.

“Not necessarily,” Blake hesitated. “Just tell the right parts of the truth. Let people fill in the blanks themselves.”  
“And if I were to refuse?” He asked. “What misfortune could the truth possibly bring”

Blake shook her head, “People will already try to make your life harder just for what you are. The truth would only make it easier for them.”

No1 shook his head. “Not a novel experience, I assure you.”

“And that makes it okay?” Blake rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Just being a faunus is going to be hard enough. If you make them think even less of you it could get you killed!” The boy looked taken aback. It looked like she’d finally gotten through to him.

“Oh very well,” he sighed. “I suppose I can accept the practical necessity of deception. But wouldn’t that necessitate proper attire?” Blake winced. He wasn’t wrong... a bear skin toga was less than subtle. Everyone would be asking for his story.

“You have a point,” Blake conceded. “Start checking crates. These aren’t as secure as the dust cars. We might get lucky.”

“For what conceivable purpose would dust cars be more secure?” No1 was perplexed. “Do hearth ashes and dust bunnies somehow pass for gold and silver?”

“Not that kind of dust,” Blake clarified. “Maybe you called it something else? Come on, we don’t have a lot of time”

An hour or so passed as they gradually worked their way through the car. While there were still plenty of SDC crates, there wasn’t any dust to be found. It was mostly things like industrial parts or empty dust storage. Other packages looked like standard mail, which they left alone. They found crates bound for clothing stores, but most of them only had socks or underwear. Ironically, it was an SDC crate that let them strike gold.

“Aha! I believe I’ve located some attire!” No1 pointed out a stenciled label. ‘SDC UNIFORM, 100 CT. ASTD SIZES’ They pried it open and started sorting through nearly identical sets of denim overalls and pale blue T-shirts. Soon enough, No1 had ducked behind a crate and put on a fresh set of clothing, complete with steel toed work boots. He had put the shirt on over the overalls, but it actually made them less conspicuous. He just looked like he was wearing a boring t-shirt and jeans.

“Well, you’re not a caveman anymore,” Blake nodded in approval as No1 shoved his supplies into a backpack she’d found in a crate of school supplies. “We should be arriving soon. Have you thought about a name?”

“I haven’t,” No1 said. “If I’m honest, I’ve always thought most of the names I know are horrid, present company excluded. Epithets like ‘Sumner Conray,’ ‘Tobias Habborlain,’ and ‘Eoin Colfer.’ A wasteland of utter tosh.”

“Well they certainly don’t sound very colorful,” Blake frowned. This ‘Hybras’ must have been incredibly isolated if it never picked up that particular tradition. “If you’re going to fit in, color’s important. Weren’t you taught about The Great War?”

“I think we both know that I have not, Lady Blake.” No1 chuckled.

“Right... well the short version is that there was a war over creativity and artistic expression. When it was over, it became traditional to give names that invoke color.” Blake said, somewhat hurriedly. They had to be approaching Vale. He’d have to open a history book on his own later. “With your hair, you’d probably pick something red.” Her ears twitched beneath her bow as the train’s horn blared.

“D’arvit! What is that?” The imp asked, thoroughly startled.

“It’s the train. We’re coming up on Vale,” Blake replied. “Follow my lead, don’t talk to anyone. We don’t want to be caught when they try to figure out what happened to the rest of the train.”

“Why not?” He was confused. “It’s not as if we’ve done anything wrong.”

“Just... just trust me.” Blake sighed.

As the train began to slow, Blake leapt up onto the next car. Reaching down, she helped No1 up. Surprisingly she didn’t need to steady him. He seemed to have decent balance on his own. She guided him over the cars, their footsteps drowned by the shrieking brakes. Blake dropped them down between two passenger cars, where they waited until they pulled into the station. As the crowd disembarked and began milling around, they simply climbed down to the tracks and back onto the platform, vanishing into the crowd.

To his credit, he did his best to keep his head down. He tried not to gawk at the holographic lamp posts and the tall buildings, or the shop windows full of merchandise of all kinds. He failed miserably, but he clearly tried.

Blake pulled a device out of her pocket, unfolding a white plate into a blue window of light. “I say, what manner of contraption is that?” No1 asked. “Is it magic?”

Blake shook her head, almost amused at what little it took to dazzle the boy. “It’s just a scroll. They give out the basic ones for free. I’m going to try to find a youth center for you.”

He smiled at the thought of having his own magic window. “And what is a youth center?”

“It’s a place that helps kids when they don’t have anyone else to turn to. They can get you into school, get you a place to sleep... They’ll look after you.” She wasn’t sending this query directly of course... she was looking up an address that was already there. “I know someone who’ll be able to help us find one safe for faunus. Come on, I think I know the way from here.”

They wound up hailing a cab, since Blake’s friend was too far away to walk. They’d tried to catch a bus, but they had been curtly refused. Blake had been ignored, but No1 was rudely informed that the bus had a ‘no animals allowed’ policy.

Tukson’s Book Trade was a very well stocked, if poorly lit place. Like any good bookshop, its wall to wall shelves were laden with all manner of books, both reference and fiction in various conditions.  
“Welcome to Tukson’s Book Trade!” A man exclaimed as he came in from the back of the shop. “Home to every book under the sun. How can I help you?” He was much broader than one would expect of someone in his trade. He was built like a fighter, which seemed wholly unnecessary for shelving books.

“We need to see your rare books,” Blake looked him in the eye as she spoke. Her expression didn’t quite match her question.

“What are you looking for?” He replied, his gaze searching.

“Call of the Wild, first edition.” Her tone was final.

“I might have that in the back. Follow me,” He turned and waved for them to join him in the back room. He locked them behind them, but he didn’t stand between them and the door. This was security, not a trap. “What do you need, sister?” Blake shook her head.

“It’s not me, it’s him,” Blake gestured to No1. “He’s not a member, but he needs a safe youth shelter.”

“I say, a member of what?” No1 spoke up, thoroughly confused. “Are we seeking help from some nefarious individual?”

“Nefarious?” Tukson chuckled. “That’s a new one. Don’t worry kid, I’m just an informant. What’s your story?”

He mulled over his story for a moment. “Long,” No1 shrugged. “First and foremost, the tropical locale where I was born and raised suffered critical damage to its very existence. I can’t honestly call it a shame. To say the place was less than pleasant would be a dubious understatement of the facts.”

“Why are you talking like that?” Tukson asked, his curiosity thoroughly piqued.

“There was but a single book on the island,” No1 grimaced. “We made do.”

“Riiiight,” Tukson pulled a notebook from one of the shelves. “Probably want somewhere close to a school. No offense kid, but that book was probably a little... dated.” He flips a few pages. “Alright, your best bet’s going to be St. Vodello’s Youth Refuge. It’s close to a school called Four Colors High, and the whole neighborhood is pretty well integrated. The janitor’s an asshole, but he hates everyone equally.” He pens down the address, and tears out the page. “Here’s the address. You need anything else?”

“If it wouldn’t trouble you, do you have a book on names?” No1 asked hopefully. “My current moniker is less than traditional. Best to clean the slate, as it were.”

“Yeah, I think I have a trade in... give me a second. I haven’t processed everything yet. It’s just me back here, after all.” He starts rooting through a couple of boxes. “Could use a part-timer though, if you’re interested.”

“You would employ me, good sir?” No1 was a bit bewildered. “I was under the impression that sort of thing was more of a formal sort of process.”

“Perks of owning a business,” Tukson chuckled. “Besides, it's real simple work. Maybe ten or twenty hours a week. Gotta start somewhere, right?” He finds what he was looking for, a somewhat dog-eared paperback with a faded rainbow across the cover. “Here you go. Complete Chromatic Names by Roy G. Biv. On the house, I wouldn’t get much for it anyway.”

“Thank you kindly, Mister Tukson.” No1 smiled. “I am most pleased to have made your acquaintance.”

“Let me know when you come up with a name, kid,” the elder faunus smiled. “I’ll need it for the paperwork.”

“Thanks for the help, brother.” Blake almost muttered the last word. She wasn’t quite comfortable calling the White Fang family anymore. “Is the cafe across the street any good?”

“Oh they’re great! We’ve got a little cross promotion going right now. If you buy a book here, and show them the receipt, you get a free coffee.” Tukson grinned, happy to be talking about normal business.

“In that case,” Blake smiled. “Do you have a hardback of The Man with Two Souls?”

~o~o~

Blake had wound up purchasing a few books, though it had been very clear she wanted to purchase more. She was content, sharing a booth and while they both turned pages in silence. They were nibbling on sandwiches and sipping coffee as they read. Every once in a while he would suggest a name, trying them on like clothing one by one.

‘Red’ had been right out. ‘Scarlet’ hadn’t sounded quite right. ‘Sanguine’ and ‘Brick’ sounded far too harsh for someone so innocent. So he’d started focusing more on the meanings of names. He’d been silent for a few minutes, sipping at his coffee as they both read in personable quiet until something made him smile.

“I think I might have it. ‘Ifrit - Culture Unknown, refers to a type of djinn, demon, or spirit of flame. Often depicted with horns,’” He grinned wide. “Ifrit. Ifrit Monochrome.”

“One color?” Blake asked. “Like ‘number one?’ Are you sure you want to hold onto that?”

To her surprise, he nodded with a smile. “Of course I do. I was content to keep my moniker, to define it rather than continue to allow it to define me. This is just a few steps further, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Blake found herself smiling. It was surprising wisdom from someone so young and sheltered. She wished she could get to know him better. “Come on, finish your sandwich. We should get to the census office before it closes, so you can get registered.” She managed to keep the sadness from her voice, if only just. Helping him had meant leaving a trail with Tukson, so she wouldn’t be able to hide in this part of the city. She wasn’t done running yet.

~o~o~  
Author’s Note  
We’ve hit ten chapters! Thank you all for your support. We’ve decided to start a discord to interact with our readers, and we hope to see you there. https://discord.gg/VXg2seC  
And don’t worry, Holly and Artemis are going to be back in the spotlight next chapter.


	11. Aftercare

“Pull.”

A silver cylinder arced into the sky, tumbling end over end. A needle thin bolt of lightning strikes it, bursting it like a firework as its contents jump from ice cold to boiling. The scattered remains clatter down into the growing drifts of similar shrapnel like a puddle of aluminum rain.

“Do you always do this to unwind?” Amber said, sipping one of the more fortunate cans.

“More or less.” Holly shrugs, lowering her Neutrino. It was like a child’s toy in her hands, but no less dangerous. “Not my first choice of firing range, though.” Calling it a firing range was a bit generous. More accurately, it was a junkyard with an improvised range. There were crude targets of chains, metal and spray paint hanging near a wall of engine blocks for a backstop. Not that Holly was paying them any attention. They’d brought their own targets.

Artemis selected another can of cheap beer. “If it's anything like your taste in guns, we might as well have waited until morning,” he teased.

Holly shook her head, suppressing a smile. “Just throw the can, mud-boy. Pull.”

Another toss, another shot, another improvised firework. Artemis winced and rolled his slowly improving shoulder. Amber had insisted he do the throwing, to make sure his shoulder healed properly. It was doing the trick, though the first few throws had been less than dignified. He took another swig of his chalk flavored protein drink while Holly sipped a sports drink.  
“Pardon my curiosity, Ms. Harvest,” Artemis began. “Why are you still here? You must have spent at least a third of your pay on all this.”

Amber shrugged, not quite genuinely. “I- you know, I- I had to make sure you were okay and... and...” She sighed. “Why am I trying to lie to a cop and a criminal?” Artemis and Holly looked at her expectantly. “The truth is... complicated. And potentially dangerous. There’s something different about my aura. I didn’t know if it would complicate unlocking yours.”

“So if your eyes aren’t silver,” Holly began with a wry smile. “Does that make you a Maiden?” Amber’s jaw dropped and she sputtered in confusion. Artemis raised an eyebrow clearly impressed. “So that’s a yes,” the former elf grinned.

“How?” Amber choked. “How could you possibly know that!?”

“I didn’t,” Holly chuckled. “You read a lot of children’s books when you’re just learning to read. I figured if the fairy tales back home were more than stories, it wouldn’t be much of a stretch.”

“If you have a secret to protect,” Artemis smiled wryly. “You may want to learn how to lie. Or at least develop a poker face.”

“I am too sober for this conversation,” Amber sighed as she cracked open another beer, taking a deep swig.

“Then let’s have a different one.” Artemis offered. “Suppose nothing changes. What can I expect now that I’ve had my Aura unlocked?”

“Faster healing for one.” Amber said, honestly surprised that he was letting it drop. “Double edged sword really. If you get hurt, you have to clean the wound immediately. You don’t want anything to get into the wound. You’ll want to take some antibiotics, make sure your shoulder doesn’t get infected.”

Artemis nodded. “I was told it could protect oneself, and enhance equipment.”

“Yes and no,” Amber replied. Holly pulled another can and tossed it herself, sniping it out of the air with ease. “That’s something you have to learn, it's not automatic.” Holly picked up another can.

“Hmm... is that something Signal would teach?” Artemis asked... seconds later the same can hit the ground without the retort from Holly’s pistol. “Holly?”

She didn’t answer. She stared at the dented can on the ground, mechanically holstering her pistol.

“Holly, are you alright?” Artemis asked with growing concern.

“We’re not going home are we?” She asked, a slight crack to her voice.

“Holly, of course we’re-” Artemis began, only to be cut off.

“Fowl, listen to yourself. You’re thinking about a combat school. We don’t have the time spell, Hybras dissolved, and the Ritual doesn’t work. We’ve! Got! Nothing!” She punted the can across the junk yard in a spray of foam. 

"Our lives would be easier if I learned how to fend for myself, Captain,” Artemis defended. “You saw what happened!"

“D'arvit, mud-boy, we already have lives! But with each passing day in this world, it looks more and more like you don't even want to go home!"

“How dare you!” Artemis was appalled. “Did you forget what I was willing to do for my family? What I was willing to trade for their health and safety? I spent three years looking for my father when the world was sure he was dead! I spent three years buying, selling, cheating, and stealing with the worst humans to walk the earth so there wouldn’t be a penny out of place when he came back! You have no idea the depths I’ve knelt to to protect my mother from her own shattered mind!” He spoke with cold fury, tears of his own escaping his eyes. “And you think that after all of that, after three years of giving everything to my family, that I’m ready to throw it all away after three damned months!?” 

Holly forced her retort past sobs. “Then why aren't we doing anything about it? Why are we even wasting our time with fancy apartments and robbing casinos and-” 

“And what was tonight!?” Artemis cut her off with venom in his voice. “A picnic perhaps!? Did the grimm descend upon us because we forgot the finger sandwiches?”

“You could barely stand exercise when your life was on the line, and now you’re thinking about combat school!” The tears flooded down her face like twin rivers. “Because you know you’ll never see Butler again. Just like we’re never going to see Foaly or Vinyaya or Mulch or... or...”

“ENOUGH!” Amber roared, her voice cutting through the shouting match. “Enough. You’re both sad, angry, and scared. Don’t let it ruin your friendship. From what it sounds like, all that you have left is each other.” There was a tense silence, broken only by sniffles and heavy breathing. Artemis laid a hand on Holly’s shoulder, the faintest hint of support a balm against both their raw emotions.

Holly schooled her breathing, forced herself to calm as she drew her pistol. She nodded at her friend. “Pull.”

A silver cylinder arced into the sky, tumbling end over end.

~o~o~

Several days later, a man walked into an office building uncomfortably close to the bad part of town. His hair was dark blue and crudely styled, and he wore a cotton three piece suit that didn’t quite manage to look expensive. The unmistakable uniform of the sudden job interview. He stepped around crews of movers that were hauling in office furniture, computers, all manner of scientific equipment. He approved. The only space that looked complete was a secretarial desk, though nobody was sitting in it at the time.

“Mr. Fontaine?” A voice said from behind him.

“Doctor Fontaine,” he started as he turned. He couldn’t stop his eyes from bulging at the sight of the woman who greeted him. Porcelain skin, obsidian hair, and a blood red dress cut just low enough to be interesting. “Am I to be meeting with you Ms...?”

“Malachite,” Militia said. “Follow me.” It wasn’t a request. She guided him to the elevator and took him up a few floors to a small conference room. She rolled her eyes as he sat across from her, crossing his legs conspicuously. “Now, Dr. Fontaine-”

“Please, call me Beck.” He offered in what he clearly thought was a suave tone. Militia fixed him with an icy glare.

“Whatever, Doctor Fontaine,” She growled, a slight crack in her professional demeanor. “We’ve contacted you because of your research background. You’ve been trying to get a research grant for ‘Dustless technology’ correct?”

The scientist couldn’t believe his ears. “Yes, that’s correct. I’ve long believed that we’re over-reliant on Dust-” he sputtered a moment. “N-not that there’s anything wrong with it of course. Merely that we don’t really have alternatives in the event of a shortage. Less than twelve percent of homes are equipped with wood stoves, and ninety percent of those are located outside the main cities. In fact the extraterritorial villages are better equipped to endure the absence of dust directly because of the vulnerabilities in the supply line. In fact, I-”

“Please try to keep it brief, Doctor.” Militia said, holding a groan. She was going to make damned sure ‘King Midas’ hired someone else to play secretary. She could swear the corporate drone getup was beginning to itch. “We’re prepared to make you an offer.”

“I’m listening,” The doctor nodded. It was refreshing to discuss his work with someone who didn’t laugh at him.

“You aren’t the first to look into Dust free alternatives,” Militia said, carefully remembering her lines. “My employer has come across documentation for a number of such inventions, usually through... legally ambiguous means. Technologies that companies like SDC would prefer never see the light of day.”

“Well if you’ve already got them, what do you need me for?” Fontaine asked.

“Your reputation,” she said. “You’re the only scientist with an interest in the topic that isn’t currently affiliated with a Dust distributor or a university. With your research background and known interests heading the project, we would be able to refute any claims of corporate espionage.”

“I see... and what about my own research?” he asked, clearly interested. “You’d fund that as well, correct? I wouldn’t just be a figurehead?”

“Of course,” Militia faked a smile, sliding a sheaf of papers across the table. “It’s all in here. You’d oversee an entire floor of this building. Lab space, staff, and grad students will be at your disposal. The information we already have will allow us to spin up quickly, but we will need you to maintain that momentum. Can you do that Doctor Fontaine?”

The good doctor couldn’t suppress a smile as he scanned the contract. Surely a little dirty dealing was forgivable here, right? This was just sound science that the Dust companies had tried to bury. This was justice... or at least that’s what he told himself as he signed the dotted line. “You’ve got yourself a deal. I look forward to working with you.”

“You won’t be,” Militia says, standing up and smoothing down her dress. “I run another of our employer’s business ventures. You’ll be reporting to him directly starting Monday.”

“To who?” Fontaine asked.

“Artemis Fowl,” she said. “Now then, I believe that will be all.” Perhaps a little too forcefully, she led him back downstairs, showing him to the door. “Your security badge will arrive by mail.” The doctor turned around, a wide smile on his face. He took her hand in his sweaty, clammy grip, and shook it enthusiastically. It took heroic restraint to stop herself from crushing the man’s hand.

“I just want to thank you for this opportunity.” He grinned. “Perhaps I could buy you a coffee?”

“No.” Militia forced through the clenched teeth of a hollow smile. She sighed with relief as he shrugged and walked away.

“And the award for best actress goes to-” a mirror in white smirked from behind the secretary desk.

“Ugh, like, not now Mel.” Militia visibly shuddered. “I feel, like, soul-grody.”

Melanie nodded sagely, opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of bubblegum vodka. Her sister snatched it out of her hands, ripped the cap off, and took a long pull.

“I’ll take the next one,” Melanie smiled. “Like, take five girl..”

“Thanks bitch.” Militia smiled.

~o~o~

Artemis had kept a busy schedule for the last few days. Unfortunately, today found him staring at his scroll with nothing else to do. His new tech firm, Aurum Technologies, was fully equipped and hiring for research and development. He’d spent a day or so reproducing his old romance novels more or less from memory, and sent them out to a few publishers. Holly had been red in the face with laughter when she found out, a welcome change from the argument’s lingering tension. Though she stopped laughing abruptly when he confessed his nomme de plume. As it turns out, there were a few ‘Violet Tsirblu’ novels on her shelves back on Earth. They were easier to reproduce, and more importantly, to sell than any of the psychiatric works he’d penned under ‘F. Roy Dean Schlpp.’ The nightclub, re-christened ‘Lower Elements’ was repaired, redecorated, and pulling Lien in faster than he could spend it. Eventually though, everything was done, all his ducks were in a row, he simply had no tasks remaining... save the one he’d been putting off the whole time. With a heavy sigh, he finally dialed.

“ARTEMIIIIIIS!” Ruby shouted from the other side of the line. “How’s crime?”  
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about Ms. Rose,” he stammered, slightly off guard. “I could have sworn I dialed your father.”  
“You did! He told me to answer it,” Artemis could hear her smile. “He’s under the sink right now.” There was a loud thunk, and a long string of curses from the background. “Do you know a good plumber?”  
“The best I can tell you is who to avoid, I’m afraid,” Artemis chuckled. “Would you put me on speaker please? I really must have a word with him.”

There was a fumbling from the other side of the line, then a beep.  
“Kay Artemis, you’re on the air!” She said.  
Artemis cleared his throat. “Mr. Xiao Long, I’ve given what you told me some serious thought. I’d like to ask you about enrolling at Signal Academy.” He wisely held the device at arms length until Ruby’s ear splitting glee subsided.

“Okay Rubes, reign it in a bit,” Taiyang chuckled. “What changed your mind?”  
“I’m not at liberty to discuss it,” Artemis deflected. “The long and short of it is that I had my aura unlocked to prevent a regrettable-”  
“You nearly got killed, huh?” cut Taiyang , blunt as a dwarf attorney.  
Artemis sighed. “...Yes. I assure you, the huntress ensured the injury healed properly.”  
“You get your protein?” He said, professionally curious.  
“Three liters of convenience store protein shake,” Artemis confirmed. “Standard procedure?”  
“Pretty much. You should see what my girls go through.” Taiyang grinned. “You’re going to want to set more aside for groceries.”  
“I’ll make a note of that,” Artemis said. He wasn’t concerned about money, not that he would explain that to his future instructor. “Now, for enrollment. Is there a tuition fee I need to worry about?”  
“Nah, it’s a public school.” Taiyang said over the clatter of tools. “City covers the cost. You just have to show up and do your homework.”

The thought of public school was mildly unsettling. Ordinarily he’d default to a private school like St. Bartleby’s back in Ireland... but he needed what few connections he’d managed to make.  
“Hey, who’s on the line?” Yang had evidently wandered into the room.  
“It’s Artemis! He’s coming to Signal!” Ruby blurted.  
“What? No way.” Yang scoffed.  
“I assure you it’s true, Ms. Xiao Long.” Artemis sighed.  
“No way... are you okay?” Yang asked.  
“He nearly got killed,” Ruby said, sagely.  
“Ooooooooh, yeah, that’ll do it.” Yang said, understanding completely.  
“You are remarkably blasė about that,” Artemis growled, slightly irritated.  
“Sorry kid,” said Yang. “That’s just kind of a common reason. ‘Oh I had to hide under my table while a Nevermore pecked at my house. A boarbatusk chased me up a tree. I got mugged in the park...' You hear it a lot.”  
“Noted.” Artemis said. “So who do I need to query about enrollment?”  
“Don’t sweat it kid, I’ll have the Dean send you the forms.” Taiyang grinned. “Classes start in about three weeks. Make sure you’ve got your school supplies, and an apple for the teacher.”  
“Dad you’re the teacher,” Ruby snarked.  
“And I like apples!” Taiyang jokes, sending his daughters giggling. There was another sound just behind that though. More subtle, like straining metal.  
“I’ll leave you to your repairs then... but Taiyang, do consider hiring a proper plumber. If you’ve left the scroll on the counter I think you have, you might not have turned off the-” There was a metallic ping, followed by a hissing noise and a startled gasp. “Water pressure.”  
“Gotta go! Bye Artemis!” Ruby yelped, and the call clicked off.

Artemis stared at the scroll for a few minutes more. “What have I gotten myself into?”  
“Staying alive?” Holly quipped, leaning casually against the doorway. Artemis rolled his eyes in response. “Send me those forms too, by the way.”  
“What do you need with combat school?” Artemis asked.  
“Aura control. Amber said that it’d be better for me to do a full course on it.” Holly explained. She had asked Amber to unlock her Aura the morning after the Ritual. It wasn’t fairy magic, but at least she could heal after a fight. “I pinned her every time, but I couldn’t hold an aura shield while we were sparring. Kept trying to do it the old fashioned way.”

“Did that actually do anything?” Artemis was genuinely curious. The fairy shield was something of a misnomer. It allowed them to vibrate so quickly that they couldn’t be seen. Effectively invisible, especially with the newer uniforms solving the heat haze problem.  
“Wasted a lot of aura, very fast,” she said sadly. She flared her aura in demonstration, a rich emerald green. “It’s strange. It feels like I’m running hot, but nothing works the way it’s supposed to. Amber said it was like I’d learned the wrong way to do things.”

“We’ve made it this far together, haven’t we?,” Artemis smiled endearingly. “What’s one more adventure?”


	12. Hiatus Notice

Sorry it's been so long without an update. I had a heavy courseload this semester and it kind of started eating me alive. Truth be told, I'm still a little burnt out. I'm taking some time to watch new season of RWBY and work on some personal projects before I come back to this. I can't promise when that will be, but I don't want to rush it for its own sake. I'd rather bring you the best chapter I can than the fastest. See you as soon as I can with Chapter 12.  
-ParagonDreams


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